What I Didn’t Eat: Enough Ice Cream

I love ice cream. I mean, everyone loves ice cream. I think. Even if you also really like popsicles, even if you only eat non-dairy ice cream, even if you don’t often let yourself buy ice cream, you probably love ice cream.

I love ice cream. Sometimes, when I’m having a real shithead of a day, I’ll text Nic and be like, ‘Sheesh today is so horrible! [Rage text/rage text/rage text]’

Nic will reply, almost immediately: Go out and get yourself some ice cream.

He doesn’t mess around. Doesn’t tell me to call a friend. To breathe deeply. To try to figure out the root of the bad that started the day off wrong.

I used to buy a pint of ice cream a couple times a week. Buy it, and keep it, in our freezer, so that it would be there, sitting, waiting for me. To need it. But my need was so strong and so constant.

So lately, I’ve been trying to only buy ice cream when I’m out, and I feel like my heart really, really needs it. No one eats ice cream for any other reason than their heart. Which is maybe why it’s my favorite. There’s no nutritional reason to consume it, and no part of your body benefits from it. But the heart.

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I haven’t had a pint in my house for a couple weeks. And the other night, we pulled up to park the car, around 9pm, and…