Probably one of my most favorite things about us dating, were the nights we ended with ice cream. You would ask, “you wanna get a blizzard from Dairy Queen?” My answer was ALWAYS, yes!
If you know anything about me, you should know I LOVE ice cream. I can eat it day or night. Winter or summer. I love ice cream and I freakin love blizzards from Dairy Queen. (for those who don’t know about blizzards, they are like the McFlurry’s from McDonalds but so much better)
So there we sat in the drive thru, trying to decide on what kind we wanted. I’ll never forget the look on your face; it was like a surprised-raised eyebrow-smile-look. You were slightly annoyed it took me so long to decide on a flavor but at the same time, I’m sure you thought it was a little cute. How could you NOT think my indecisiveness was cute? It’s every man’s dream to have a girl sit there and say, “I don’t know what I want, what do you think I should get? What kind are you getting?? I just don’t know….”
Like most things, you tolerated it beautifully.
You were a standard blizzard eater. Either cookie dough or Oreo. Both very great choices. You knew they would never disappoint.
I, however, was always tempted to try the flavor of the month. Pumpkin pie. Chocolate Covered Strawberry. Peppermint. Cotton Candy. My biggest fear though was, “what if I don’t like it? What if I waste my blizzard time on something that’ll disappoint when I can be 100% sure with Oreo or Butterfinger? But what if this new flavor is the bomb.com and it’s my new favorite??”
Fucking losing my mind in the drive thru…over ice cream, y’all. Awesome date night.
I would make a decision and we complete the drive thru. We would sit in the parking lot and start eating our blizzards. They were almost always good. I mean, it’s ice cream with candy and shit in it, how can you go wrong? About half way through, I’d look over at your amazing Oreo concoction and the conversation started;
“you like your Oreo babe?”
"yep, it tastes the same every time, you like your pumpkin pie?”
“yeah….i mean, it’s good….kinda thinking I shoulda gotten something with chocolate though…but it’s fine…”
“ok, I’m glad you like it.”
“well, it’s okaaaayyy. It’s not as good as Butterfinger or Oreo though….”
“Babe, do you just wanna trade with me??”
“no, no, it’s fine. I’ll just eat this one. It’s ok.”
“Just trade with me and be done with it. I’ll eat your pumpkin crap and you can have my Oreo BUT next time, just order the Oreo and don’t even worry about the others!”
That was you. Youisaid those magic words every time. “Wanna trade?” just so I could get the ice cream I really wanted.
My decision making ability became even worse when I was pregnant. I wanted all the food and all the ice cream. I didn’t want just one. I wanted a burger AND nachos. I wanted a brownie AND ice cream.
I remember sitting at chilis one day, after a pregnancy check up at the doctor, and halfway through the meal, I looked over at what you ordered and you said, you wanna trade don’t you?
I really did always want to trade. Whatever you ordered, always seemed better than what I was eating, and bless your heart, you always traded without complaining. I loved that about you.
The other night, Kaleb and I were driving home, eating our ice cream, and his little voice from the back of the car said, “what kind you got momma?” I said, “Oreo.” He said, “mmmm sounds good, wanna trade?”
Tears. And more tears. I pulled over and traded with my little dude.
We really wish you woulda been there, to trade ice creams with us.