Heading back from closing the cabin, I was really, really looking forward to getting a big ice cream cone at one of my favorite stops. Yep, the ice cream was going to be my farewell to Summer, my “it’s okay that the cabin closed, life will still go on.” Stopping at the Cherry Grove Market, a little Mennonite run grocery store, I perused the ice cream selection. Butter Pecan, Strawberry Cheesecake, Maple Nut, nothing was making a connection with me. Then I saw it, the perfect goodbye to Summer, “Campfire Crunch.” Also, the perfect time to enjoy it, since my son, Jacob, who is allergic to nuts was not in the car, I could indulge in nuts, and oh I did. “Campfire Crunch” features peanut butter ice cream with a swirl of marshmallow and chocolate covered graham crackers. Two big scoops, equaling their small size. “Is this Heaven? No, it’s the Cherry Grove Market, south of Browerville, Minnesota.”
Approaching the checkout, with my mega “small” waffle cone, I saw a display of chocolate covered nut candies. Oh, it was perfect. Pecans, peanuts, cashews! Amazingly, I stopped at only three extra chocolates. I’m sure that the teen girl behind the checkout was impressed by my unabashed indulgence in junk food. It was probably amazing that I still had teeth. Holding the chocolates and my ice cream cone, I snuck a lick or two and began digging for the keys in my pocket. Perhaps, it was my continued attempts to get an extra lick. Perhaps, it was the digging for keys. Whatever the reason, I lost balance of the cone. In a split second, joy turned into sadness. My ice cream cone fell toward the ground. Its size gave the cone ball-like properties that you would not anticipate, the ability to bounce and roll. Bounce and roll it did, across the asphalt and well under my car.
Shocked and devastated, I quickly reviewed my options. Perhaps, if I used the cone’s napkin, inexplicably still in my hand, and acted fast enough, I could still save it. I could wipe away the dirt and enjoy it. Setting down the chocolates, I got down on the parking lot (I mean fully “belly on the ground” down) and reached as far as I could under the car. I barely could reach the cone, but managed to roll it back fully into my grasp. Standing up again, I surveyed the damage. The rolling/bouncing action of the cone had fully coated the ice cream in gravel and dirt. The filth was almost indistinguishable from the chocolate covered graham crackers. Still, I was not going to give up that easy. I went to wipe away some dirt with the napkin, when the final domino fell. I guess it was the fall that caused a hairline crack in the waffle cone, because when I went to clean away the dirt, the entire cone collapsed in my hand. One big ice cream mess. My farewell to Summer treat crushed in my paws.
Considering that maybe it was a sign from above that I should not be eating such a sinful treat, I brushed the thoughts aside. This was not gluttony, it was a farewell to Summer tribute. Not a sin, but rather a sign of love. Embarrassed by my accident, I threw the ice cream disaster in the trash and reentered the store. That is when I committed the true sin. I lied. I deserved a special punishment, an ice cream type of damnation. Instead of saying, “I am a knucklehead and cannot hold my ice cream,” I outright lied. “My wife wanted one, too,” I said to the same teen behind the checkout. Her suspicious look turned to acceptance. Did this make the lie okay? No! Bad man! Bad man buying more ice cream!
As I drove away, eating my pint of ice cream on a cone, I enjoyed every last lick, even though I knew it was wrong. Finishing the cone, I began on the chocolate covered nuts and reaffirmed my sinful nature. Then without warning, I stopped and considered the situation. I could begin to make this right. I could be redeemed. I looked at the remaining two chocolates and left them alone. This evening, my wife and I could enjoy them together. I could indeed begin to make things right again.
As I completed my journey home, an act of divine confirmation occurred. I opened the back door and found my wife making her cookie specialty, M&M Cookies (featured on page 239 of my cookie cookbook, available for free download at www.CookiesbyDave.com). Her smile and kindness awaited me, after a long journey. The goodness of cookies were there for me. The universe had forgiven me, plus I was blessed with the knowledge of a new truth: ice cream can bounce.
Charlene and her M&M Cookies