My brain was out of gear when I chose the ice cream. I arrived home with two types of ice cream that no one liked. But they ate it anyway. Somehow or other, I picked up a different box of ice cream than I had looked at in the freezer because when I opened the bag at home to put them in the fridge, the flavors of ice cream were different than I had intended to bring home.
Even I did not like the flavors of ice cream and I have never known an ice cream that I did not like. Some ice cream I just like better. Chocolate ice cream with donuts was one. It was awful with chunks of dough throughout the ice cream. The other kind was chocolate malt. The problem with it was the small balls of malt in the ice cream. They were hard and you felt as if your teeth might break at any moment. And there were lots of those hard malt balls. I will not ever bring either types home again. But of course, as I was not paying attention the other day, I could have another lapse. Perhaps it is called getting old.
Yesterday when Doreen and I went shopping, we were admonished by our men for Doreen to chose the ice cream. And she did. Butter pecan and rocky road ice cream were perfectly acceptable by all four. Next time I shop I must be more careful.
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