Relative Something

Last night, I splurged on a treat of ice cream after dinner. I garnished it with my all-time favorite topping, Grape-Nuts cereal. I must have been in a contemplative mood, because the pouring of Grape-Nuts triggered a deep sense of appreciation for how much I love that cereal on my ice cream and how much I love ice cream.

A long time ago, maybe starting back when I suffered a kidney stone, I realized I needed to be prudent about my ice cream indulgences. If I dropped my guard and let my whimsy direct my actions, I believe I would choose to have ice cream for breakfast, lunch, dinner and several snacks in between. I love the coldness of ice cream more than anything, and the texture, or range of textures, is a close second. The flavor is almost trivial, except for the fact that it provides variety, and I am all over variety. It would be a tragedy to eat so much ice cream that I become bored with it. Although, come to think of it, coffee flavor in my ice cream is one thing than can render the treat intolerable and unpalatable.

When our children were young, one skill we intended to nurture was self-control over food treats. I remember one particular incident with Julian when he asked how many cookies he could have. Our answer was in the form of a question. “How many do you think you should have?” Whether he wanted to, or not, he thought about it and made a sensible choice. From that moment on, we were able to allow him to work on managing that kind of decision himself. You don’t have to stop at just one, but there is a sensible upper limit that falls short of being excessive. There is an art to mastering the discernment and control which allows for successful functioning within that range.

For myself, regarding ice cream, I practice a strict control. There was a time in my life when I had ice cream available by the gallon in my freezer. There have also been times when I asked that it not be purchased at all for our home freezer. We have been known to substitute a frozen fruit bar to sooth my cravings. I don’t mind them, but sometimes, instead of relishing their delicacies, all I can do is notice how NOT like ice cream they are.

One thing my strict rationing of ice cream does do for me lately is it helps me really, really appreciate everything I love about the treat. Last night I allowed myself to do just that with my favorite topping and a few simple scoops of vanilla flavor in a big bowl. From the first hard bites to the latter soft mix with crunchy cereal, I wallowed in a life-time of fondness for this favorite treat.

As satisfying as that was, it also triggered a craving to have it for breakfast this morning, for lunch today, and a snack between that and dinner. It’s back to strict control for me. I love ice cream that much.