jetsetgreen

Saturday, June 23, 2007

Spoonful

Growing up with my father was a real treat. Even though he had to sneak in contraband goods when my mom wasn’t looking, dad always managed to have some kind of tasty concoction up his sleeve or in a cupboard (or, as some of us found out, hidden on the top shelf of his walk-in closet, but don't ask me how I know that.) My mom’s ideas of ‘cool snacks’ in a sack lunch were carrot slices. Woo. Party down Bronx.

My mother would chastise dad about his ice cream intake and he’d say, “I’m just grabbing a spoonful.” That’s true, dad would get a spoonful. Somehow, perhaps with the ability to suspend physics, dad would take a tablespoon and scoop, turn, scoop, adjust, and there, perched on that small spoon, was an enormous helping of ice cream. How big? What a normal person might fit in a bowl fit onto the spoon. He’d walk out of the kitchen pleased with himself for only having a ‘spoonful’ of ice cream.

We all inherited this ridiculous method of portion control. Every summer day I, and probably my siblings, sneak to the freezer to scoop, turn, scoop, and adjust until there is an Everest of ice cream on our best silver. Try it sometime. Be forewarned, scooping until you get the correct balance is only the first step. The second is consuming the ice cream without making a drippy mess. Who needs a cone?

So the next time you come to my house and you happen to spy half a dozen spoons lying on this surface or that, you'll know, I just had a ‘spoonful’ of ice cream.

9 comments:

Suzie Petunia said...

Want lots of ice cream with only getting the spoon dirty? Try how I eat ice cream: using scissors, cut cylindrical ice cream container down to just above the current level of the ice cream. Eat and enjoy. No bowl, no mess. You're welcome.

And no, the last of that baby weight will NEVER come off if you follow my advice.

compulsive writer said...

My dad had this theory about ice cream that sort of sums it all up for me:

"There's always room for ice cream; it just melts down around the rest."

(It will be 25-years on Tuesday since he's been gone, but I almost always think of him when it comes to ice cream.)

April said...

I remember your story about the hidden candy in the closet. So funny.

Your dad sounds like a fun guy. (Not a fungi...hahahaha...er...sorry.)

Azúcar said...

suzie--That's how Other Half eats ice cream! I used to think he was weird, especially when the cylinder would get shorter and shorter...I still think he's weird but the ice cream is the least of it.

CW, I actually thought about your dad while writing this

April, we're pretty good candy-truffle pigs.

Emily said...

Is my husband from your family or something, or maybe he was drawn to your dad as a professor because of their commonalities in the ice cream dept.

Lucky Red Hen said...

Want me to tell you about MY dad and a spoon? Okay. I learned the flip-it-over just as it's almost to my lips (except liquids, of course) from my daddy. Some people actually say something about it and think it's weird. A few will say their dad does it too. I say EAT!

La Yen said...

That is exactly how I eat ice cream. W knows when I say "just get me a spoonful" I need at least a quarter cup. He has also become skilled in hershey syruping the spoon...

Julie said...

Ice cream....food for gods, I tell you. I learned to appreciate it from MY dad, whose family would make freezers of (hand-cranked) ice cream on their front porch in the summers to share with friends, family, and neighbors who came by to chat.

I want to see this spoon trick thing. Exactly how big is just a spoonful?

sue-donym said...

I just love dad stories.