Nuking the Ice Cream

You know that part of the brain that let's us know when stuff make sense or not? The part that kicks in when, for example, we start to put the cranberry juice away in the linen closet instead of in the refrigerator, and it screams at us, "Stop you fool! The juice goes in the fridge!"? The part that stops us before we pour the GrapeNuts into the juice glass instead of into the cereal bowl? You know that part? Okay, well I've concluded that this part of the brain is pretty much fried by the time most people reach the age of 90. And I'm pretty sure the frying process starts at around the age of 55 because those two examples I just shared with you? I did those. No, wait, correction. I DO those........more frequently than I'm going to admit today.

Here's the evidence for my fully-fried-by-90 theory. This happened today. This morning. Well, actually it must've started last night, since I didn't discover it until this morning.

First of all, you have to know that my father only eats his ice cream if it's soft. In fact, he's so adamant about having his ice cream soft that he puts his ice cream in the microwave to get it really, really soft. It's more like the consistency of pudding by the time he gets it the way he likes it. ew. Personally I prefer my ice cream hard enough that I have to carve it out of the carton and chew it, but that's just me. Nothing wrong with wanting your ice cream soft, and nuking it to get it that way, but........

This morning (now we're back to the alleged evidence) I walked into the kitchen to do mycoffee-cereal-juice-newspaper routine. I opened the fridge door and lo and behold, there was an ice cream sandwich that had been placed in the meat drawer. (See, and this is how the blog thing works for me--stuff like this happens and when it does, I think instantly to myself, "Oh this is DEFinitely going on the blog!") I surmised that the ice cream sandwich had to have been in the fridge since last night since nobody gets up before I do. Anyway, I took it out and, well it was.......basically mush......so I tossed it in the trash (refrozen ice cream just isn't very appetizing).

Of course I had to get the full story from Dad so I asked him when I got up.

Me: "Dad, did you put the ice cream sandwich in the fridge last night?"

Dad: "Yeah! I wanted it to get soft so I could have it tonight!"

Me: "Okay, well that doesn't really work because ice cream won't stay frozen in the fridge."

Dad: "Oh. Really?"

(yep, it's fried. I rest my case.)