V is for Vanilla Ice Cream
The worst vanilla ice cream I’ve ever had was homemade soft serve vanilla ice cream at my grandma’s house. We were having some sort of family party, and everyone had brought or made homemade ice cream to share. Someone had served me a bowl of the awful vanilla ice cream, which was made all the more unexpectedly awful because I normally really like homemade ice cream. This bowl, however, had some sort of unexpected tangy aftertaste, which didn’t taste like proper vanilla at all.
After several bites, I came across a mysterious lumpy glop in the bowl of ice cream. It was . . . a strawberry. In fact, the ice cream was strawberry flavored but, being homemade, hadn’t been dyed pink with food coloring. I happily finished the bowl of some of the best strawberry ice cream I’ve ever had.
I guess you can draw your own moral from this: The importance of paradigm shifts, or Be your own kind of beautiful, or Don’t judge, or whatever. I just think it’s a funny story.