Sunday, July 7, 2013

Ice Cream Sunday

Beren eating a complimentary "baby ice cream cone" at a ice cream parlor in the Virginia Beach area. He was going through a brutal growth spurt and/or teething, so we ate ice cream a couple times on this trip last summer.

Beren sat on the couch, spooning ice cream perfectly into his mouth. He rarely feeds himself dinner so attentively, thoroughly, and steadfastly.

"Fin-dished," he says and hops off the couch, leaving his bowl behind. He moves towards Jared (or his bowl of ice cream), who sits at the opposite end of the couch with his own bowl.

"What about drinking the melted ice cream? Did you do that?" I ask.

Beren climbs up onto the couch, lifts the bowl and sips. He places the empty bowl down. This time, he walks across the couch, again towards Jared who protectively cradles his bowl from his approaching son.

"Good stuff," Beren says, looming over Jared. Jared gives him a small spoonful of organic mint chocolate chip ice cream. Beren looks a bit surprised as he bites into a piece of chocolate.

I had divvied up the last of three different containers of ice cream. Beren was given the last of a half gallon of vanilla and chocolate, while I gave Jared the mint chip. I had served myself the last scrapings of an unusually flavored ice cream made by a local shop. My ice cream also had melted and refrozen weeks ago and was full of unpleasant ice chips, in addition to its slightly bitter flavor.

"Would you like some of my ice cream?" I ask. Beren gladly opens his mouth as I stretch across the living room with my loaded spoon.

He closes his mouth and makes a face. He rarely makes faces when he eats something. Two recent exceptions - when he tried white clover flowers and when he ate this ice cream.

I explain how I apportioned the ice cream, each of us getting the dregs of three different flavors. "Oh, Momma took one for the team. Her ice cream tastes weird," Jared says as he eats.

"Tastes weird," Beren repeats.

Jared and I laugh. "It does taste weird," I agree.

"Me ee-dah (either)," Beren continues. We laugh again.

"Tastes... yucky," he goes on. We all laugh this time.

"Yes, that's why I put a teaspoon of mint chip at the bottom of my bowl to end off on," I say taking my last bite.

Beren does "all gone" hands after passing a little uneaten nub of ice cream cone to Jared. I can't reall remember the first time he did "all gone" hands, but I do recall that he repeatedly did it during the summer of 2012 when the strawberry patch was picked out. "All gone" was not a gesture we taught him...

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