Ice Cream Burglar
For the past few weeks, I’ve been going through a stretch of rather extended professional obligations. Despite my best efforts to do otherwise, I’ve ended up having to work on some weekends. I really hate that.
One of those working Sundays, my loving wife and children surprised me with a quart of mint chocolate chip ice cream as a nice little gift. It was nice, but I was immediately suspicious. Mint chocolate chip is my wife’s favorite flavor – not mine.
We each had a bit. It was quite tasty. I put the rest back in the freezer.
Two days later, however, I discovered it was gone when I went to get us some ice cream for dessert after dinner. I was shocked. “It’s gone?” I asked.
My wife at least had the good graces to look embarrassed. I wasn’t going to let her off the hook that easily, though. “You stole my ice cream?”
The boys heads swivelled to look at momma, but she couldn’t help herself. She was embarrassed and giggling.
“You ate the ice cream that you specifically bought for me as a treat?” I asked. “You’re an ice cream thief!”
The boys were stunned. They were looking around, trying to figure out what to do. I slumped back to my chair. “You have to watch out for momma,” I told them. “She’ll take your ice cream when you’re not looking.”
She was still trying to stop laughing, so I persisted. “If you have ice cream, and you turn away for even a second, she’ll try to take some. You have to always watch out.”
Finally, C found his voice. He pointed accusingly at her: “You’re an Ice Cream Burglar!”
She just nodded yes.
I have to say, though, that she’s not a particularly good ice cream burglar. Really, how did she expect to get away with that?