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.
5 Comments:
BWAH hahaha! That's awesome.
This also happens when a person reads a book with the wrong generic expectations: the book is clearly a failure when taken under faulty assumptions. It still might fail once you categorize it correctly, but at least it'll rightfully be said to fail. And more often than not it becomes a pleasant surprise.
Also, homemade strawberry ice cream is the best.
How about If you're going to make homemade strawberry ice cream, throw in some red food coloring?
mysh - Oh, did I ever tell you about how I started King Lear in high school without knowing it was a tragedy? I kept wondering why people kept dying . . .
mfob - Good point.
Oh, yeah, or how I read Slaughterhouse Five thinking it was going to be a serious and realistic war novel. Man was I confused when the aliens appeared.
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