Tuesday, May 13, 2014

The Whiny Little Princess Of Denial

Farmer H is royalty, you know. At first, he fancied himself king. King of Denial, I say.

The Pony let it slip that he and Farmer H stopped for ice cream Sunday after mowing my mom's yard. Hmpf! Don't think I'm bitter because it was Mother's Day, and I had no ice cream. It's not like they were doing the Eddie Murphy dance and singing, "You ain't got no ice cream!" No. They were quite secretive. I only found out because today I asked The Pony if he wanted to stop by Dairy Queen on the way home and try the Blizzard of the Month, Strawberry Shortcake. The Pony said, "Sure. Dad and I stopped for ice cream on the way home after mowing Grandma's yard."

"Oh. Where did you stop?" I knew it wasn't Dairy Queen, because that is not on their way, and Dairy Queen does not have sugar-free ice cream. Farmer H must avoid sugar and excess carbs.

"The custard place. Where we went last week." While Farmer H was away on business for three days, The Pony and I did indeed stop for custard. Just to see if the shop was open for the summer, you know. And we were rewarding ourselves after The Pony had an optometrist visit. The custard place has sugar-free custard, so Farmer H can partake.

"Oh. Did you have a chocolate sundae again?"

"No. I had a cone."

"Did Dad have the sugar-free?"

"No. I don't know. He had what I had."

"WHAT? He can't have that! What did you have?"

"The twist. Chocolate and vanilla."

"And Dad didn't ask for sugar-free?"

"No. I didn't hear him ask for that. And it came out the same machine as mine."

So I gathered up my pitchfork and flaming torch, and set out on a witch-hunt. Farmer H blundered into my kitchen trap forthwith. "I hear you had ice cream the other day."

"Yeesss. We stopped on the way back from your mom's."

"What did you have?"

"The twist cone. What I always have. I can have that. It's custard." He looked at me like I was as simpleminded as Pangle, the Ethan Supplee character in Cold Mountain.

"You can't have that!"

"Oh. It's frozen yogurt I can have."

"No...it's anything sugar-free you can have. How hard is that to remember. You can't have sugar. It has nothing to do with custard or yogurt. It's the SUGAR!"

"I get it all the time. The twist cone."

"You have to ask for the sugar-free! They always have the twist in sugar-free. And sometimes something special for the week. But they're not going to give everybody who asks for twist a sugar-free version! You have to ask for it."

"Oh."

I don't know how that man has managed to live this long. Thank the Gummi Mary he has that breather to keep him oxygenated while I'm sleeping and unable to tell him to breathe in, breathe out.

4 comments:

Sioux said...

And I'm sure his anal sphincter works on its own--when it comes to emitting aromatic gas--without any helpful reminders from you.

At least that's how it is at OUR house.

Hillbilly Mom said...

Sioux,
Wow! You sure are psychic about anal sphincters, Madam!

Kathy's Klothesline said...

So sad that we have to be the ones who worry!

Hillbilly Mom said...

Kathy,
Yeah. They can't be bothered.