Okay, so don’t laugh.

I’m in the grocery store. The frozen food aisle to be exact. I stop in front of the ice cream. In a moment of impulse, I snatch the glass door handle, grab me some butter pecan ice cream and throw it in the top basket of my cart.

A few minutes later I run into a good friend.

“I am buying Butter Pecan ice cream,” I boast.

She just looks at me somewhat confused.

I smile because for me it is a defiant moment of emancipation. Albeit a somewhat immature one. I stroll through the rest of the aisles still feeling pleased with myself and then head to the checkout, but not before grabbing a can of tuna and some cauliflower to round out my basket full of groceries.

I spent more than twenty years of my married life not buying two of my three favorite things because my husband didn’t like them. The third, tuna fish I relished to a luncheon food when only I was home. My husband never asked me not to buy these things. I just veered away from things he didn’t like because that was the silliness of who I am.

Certainly there was room in the freezer for Butter Pecan AND Rocky Road.

Regardless, even though it was my own stupidity that decided I should be butter pecan free for twenty plus years, I still felt like I was symbolically taking my independence back (well, at least my freezer space back).

Tonight, I opened that freezer, and grabbed a pint.

Butter Pecan has gotten better with age.


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