Ice cream makes memories

Summer has some major perks – an abundance of opportunities to eat ice cream, the smell of fresh-cut grass and baby animals to longingly stare at, all over the place. And, did I mention ice cream?

Ice cream is good for any reason, and often no reason is needed for me to enjoy the treat, but I particularly like its ability to foster a cheap, memorable date.

One of the first times my boyfriend, Brett, came to visit me in Wisconsin, we decided to stop for ice cream on our way to or from something. Apparently, the ice cream shops with a large selection of flavors are less common in his neck of the woods, because Brett got very excited at the selection.

Out of all the options, Brett inquired about the blue moon. I told Brett that I thought he could do better, when it comes to picking a flavor. The young gentleman working at the ice cream shop told Brett it tastes like Froot Loops. That would explain why blue moon isn’t my first choice, but Brett went for it. As soon as we stepped out the door of the ice cream shop, our ice cream cones started melting at an incredibly rapid rate. It didn’t take long until Brett had bright blue, melted ice cream all over his face. I laughed at him. It was such a romantic date.

He totally got me back for laughing, though. We went out for ice cream in Des Moines, Iowa, at a pretty popular place. I decided to try a dipped cone, mostly because the blue candy coating looked pretty.

No sooner did we sit down to eat our ice cream, than entertainment arrived. An entire class of youngsters, maybe preschool-aged, got ice cream.

Wow. There were not enough napkins in the world for the amount of ice cream meltage that was occurring. Brett and I were getting a laugh out of watching the kids. Teachers are saints.

Cue me realizing that my cone was not holding up any better, as soon as melted ice cream began to run out from the bottom of the candy coating, where it meets the cone. Turns out, the candy coating just makes it harder to access the melting ice cream.

After about 10 seconds of trying to keep up with the dripping dairy, the candy coating imploded and I was left holding half a dipped cone worth of blue candy shards in my hand, as well as a good chunk of incredibly melted ice cream. It was a mess, a delicious one, but still. Brett laughed at me. I laughed with him, because it was clearly payback, as I ate the melted treat out of my hand. So, so romantic.

Clearly, neither one of us should be allowed to have brightly colored foods.

Brett and I were recently discussing the best ice cream flavors. We couldn’t remember each other’s favorites, though we definitely could have picked out plenty that the other would like. As soon as I said my current favorite is black cherry, Brett exclaimed, “Oh yeah, the cherry rum incident!”

I had forgotten about that one. Long story short, black cherry ice cream and cherry rum ice cream do not taste the same at all. It was a very disappointing realization for me.

See. Memorable. Brett and I already have our next ice cream date planned out. Hopefully, we can avoid the color blue and any major surprises.