I have a sweet tooth. A bottomless appetite for cookies, brownies, and ice cream.
When I was little we were waiting at the airport for my Uncle. I spotted an ice cream stand across the way. I wanted ice cream.
My Mom gave me some money and said, “Go get something.”
I remember being at the counter. Eyes wide looking at the menu. While I understood cost, I had no idea of how it related to portion size. I spotted the Triple Scoop Ice Cream Sunday and I had enough money. It came with all the toppings: hot fudge, caramel, whip cream, nuts. This thing was as big as my head. Welcome to heaven Jashon.
As I’m walking back I felt everyone looking at me. I’m presenting this 10,000 calorie monstrosity for everyone to see. Just smiling my way through hell. Then I see my Mom’s face, “Jason!”
I was so embarrassed.
I didn’t eat a single bite. It just sat there and melted. A goddamn ice cream tragedy.
To this day I still feel bad. Poor little Triple Scoop Ice Cream Sunday.
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