Tuesday was the last day for one of our summer interns to work. So, her supervisor decided that it would be nice to send her off with an ice cream social. She planned the whole thing and sent out invitations that morning. Of course it was fine with me to wish one of our interns well on her last day, I just like a little time to prepare mentally for occasions like this especially when ice cream is involved!!
There were five flavors of ice cream, along with hot fudge and caramel sauces, then crushed candy bars, sprinkles, cherries, whipped cream, nuts and anything else that can be imagined to put on ice cream. In addition to that there were three kinds of cookies and pretzels, not that I looked or anything like that.
I really was a little panicked. I could see obesity in the rear view mirror, but as it says directly on the mirror, "Objects are closer than they appear." Obesity was not far enough away for me to even consider an indulgence of any type. My only option, I felt, was to busy myself serving. I stepped right up and started scooping ice cream for everyone else. I directed everyone to the scrumptious toppings & cookies. I suggested delicious flavor combinations and made a couple of root beer floats. At one point during the scooping, I dribbled a little ice cream on one of my hands. I couldn't get to the sink fast enough to wash it off. It was sticky and I didn't like it.
Finally, the ice cream was practically gone, and the toppings were depleted and scattered. I didn't want any. It was almost gross. I sat down with everyone as they enjoyed their treats, and listened to them talk about how they were going to have to skip supper, had to stop eating like this, and then decide to have just a little more. I was glad to be off that merry-go-round. I was glad I had made the decision to be strong. I actually enjoyed myself, without one bite or even lick of ice cream. It felt good.
I Need To
2 weeks ago