April 07, 2012
Originally published October 15, 2003
Did you ever get tired of doing something that you were good at? I did once and I never recovered from the experience.
I once LOVED ice cream. I could eat it with a spoon, stick my face in a bowl and inhale chunks at a time or take it mainlined, half-melted in the veins of my arm. I was a pig about ice cream.
One day, I was at my (now) 92 year-old grandma's house and she served ice cream to me, my brother and my cousin Ernie. I bitched because I thought that I didn't get the biggest bowl. Hell, I was the oldest of the bunch. I should get MORE than anybody else. That idea made sense to me.
My grandma was a strapping woman in her 40s back then and she got sick and tired of listening to my whiney, bitching shit. She opened up a fresh quart of ice cream, stuck a spoon in it and said, "Okay! Now you have exactly what you wanted. Eat it ALL, and don't quit until you are finished."
I was happy for about five minutes. But a quart of ice cream is a LOT for a six year-old boy to eat. My brother and Cousin Ernie finished their bowls and ran off to play. I still had that quart of ice cream in front of me.
I tried to eat it. I froze my goozle and got a headache. I started to whine. "You asked for it, now eat what you asked for," my grandma said. She made me sit at the table until I never wanted any more ice cream again in my life.
I don't like ice cream to this day.
All content © Rob Smith