Consider This Your Warning Label

Sometimes things enter in to your life and just grab you.   No matter what you do you can not escape.

Sometimes this might be a good thing, something you don’t want to escape from:  a new love, an exercise that gets you motivated and out the door, a hobby that turns in to a mega money making adventure.

Then there are the things that start controlling you.

And you pay the price.

I’ve had this before but went quite some time without it.  Sadly it was reintroduced to me.   And Husband, of all people, supplies me with it.   I think it’s a control thing. And it’s pitiful because  he knows  I have a problem with it.    It started out simply enough.  We stopped at a local ice cream parlor with a daughter and son in law.  I got something I have not seen in a while.   Chocolate ice cream with frozen peanut butter in it.

This stuff should come with a warning label addressed directly to me and it should say:

DO NOT TOUCH.  INGESTING THIS WILL BECOME ADDICTING.   WE’RE WARNING YOU SO YOU ONLY HAVE YOURSELF TO BLAME.

I knew better than to go in the ice cream parlor, I even told them they should not let me go in.   No, no, they don’t listen to me, they literally demanded I go in.  We go in.  I order.  We all order.  We sit at a picnic table.   I INHALE my ice cream.  No one else has even taken a bite yet.   I tried so hard to just sit there.   Damnit they made me come in here.  It’s their fault.   I should just do what I want.  I got another order of ice cream.

That will show them for making me come in here when they know I have absolutely NO will power.

I tell them to hurry up and eat for crying out loud before I order more.

This incident has led to numerous drive bys of the ice cream parlor.   Numerous as in he happens  to drive by it to surprise me.   Of course I have to feign joy over this.  Okay I’m not feigning it because I don’t want it.  I’m feigning it because I can only have a little bit of it.  I refuse to go in because I know I will order a gallon with a spoon to go.

This addiction has progressed.  Husband has now purchased 2 containers of ice cream with frozen peanut butter in it.

What have I progressed to?

Standing in the kitchen with an open ice cream container and a spoon digging around  the ice cream!  What the hell?   Who digs around the ice cream to get to something better?   What the heck is better than ice cream?

That damn frozen peanut butter they are putting in the ice cream.

That’s what.

If anyone knows where you can get just the frozen peanut butter let me know.   Don’t be a smart ass (we’re all adults here) and tell me to put a jar of peanut butter in the freezer.  It is not the same.

I can not escape this.

By the way, if you come to my house I’m warning you, you might not want me serving you ice cream from my freezer.   It will be plain ice cream.   But there’s no promise it started that way.