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2007-03-20 - 3:10 p.m.

The Small Chill

As much as I love ice cream (mom has gotten me re-hooked -- we eat some almost every night), buying and transporting it back to the home freezer always turns into a melodramatic affair. ESPECIALLY when we have several places to go.

Mom: "Should we go to the bank, then Hob Lob, THEN to the grocery store? Because, you know, we need to get ice cream."

Me: "Ohhh right. Let's go the the bank, then the store, 'cause it's in the same center, THEN Hob Lob. We only have to pick up that piece of furniture you put on hold."

Mom: "But what if it takes them forever to find someone to load the cabinet in the car? I mean, I don't want the ice cream to melt while we wait."

Me: "Me neither, but maybe we won't have to wait. Let's take the risk."

Later, sitting in the car by the curb with the blinkers on at Hob Lob...

Mom: "Geez, I spent over a hundred bucks on that cabinet three hours ago. You'd think Olga could hurry up and find someone to help us. We've got that ice cream sitting in the back seat."

Me: "Oh, the clerks are busy checking out the women with cartloads of Easter grass and baskets totaling $4. Perhaps we should've gone to Food Town last."

Driving home fifteen minutes later with the trunk half-shut with twine...

Me: "Ok, when we get home, you run in and put the ice cream in the freezer first thing. I'll get the rest of the bags, and then the cabinet."

Mom: "Sounds good."

Pulling up to the house five minutes later, and seeing the driveway blocked by the lawn service guys...

Me: "Jesus CHRIST! NOW they show up? When we've got to unload a piece of furniture? You only called them, what, three times in the last two weeks to get this work done?"

Mom: "Awwww, crap. And we need to get the ice cream inside too."

I parked by the curb. Mom grabbed her purse and water. I reached over to locate the fucking Holy Grail of frozen goods.

Me: "Here, here it is! I'll put the bag in the foyer and you take it to the freezer. Then I'll unload the rest of the stuff."

We scurried inside and I set the bag down. I jaunted back to the car and returned with more bags, only to find mom on the back porch talking to the lawn guys. Lots of gesturing (mom) and nodding (lawn guys).

She DID put the ice cream in the freezer first, didn't she?

I looked down.

NO. SHE DIDN'T. What the hell, woman? I rushed it to the back freezer, then went back out to unload the cabinet. I knew it was fairly lightweight, but might be a bit bulky to carry across the lawn. I managed the task more easily than expected and placed it in its new space.

Mom was still out gesturing to the Hispanic crew. I carried in the rest of the groceries, plus our little finds from the dollar store (pre-Food Town). I re-parked the car to face it in the proper direction on the street, and settled down with a cold Diet Coke and a cig at the kitchen table. I was eager to let the dogs out from the upstairs bedroom (wooooof WOOOOOF!), but had to wait until mom came in and sat down.

She finally waltzed in from the back and I jumped up to head upstairs.

When I came down with the dogs, she asked "You carried that cabinet all the way in from the street? Why didn't you wait till the guys left?"

"Aww, it wasn't that heavy," I replied. "I wanted to get it in and surprise you. Whaddya think?"

"Looks good there, don't you agree?"

"Yep, it sure does. We did good, mom."

"Oh!" she suddenly exclaimed. "Did you put the ice cream in the freezer?!"

"Yes, mother. The task is done."

She sighed and sat down. "Was it mushy?"

"Yep."