I know I am old, but back when was a kid/college student/soon to be married person, I could pop into a family friendly ice cream parlor and have a good old fashioned dessert- a hot fudge sundae, a banana split, or a simple chocolate malt. If I was luck enough to be there on my birthday, I could be assured that an affable young waiter in funny suspenders full of button flair would sing to me. The point is, I don't ever remember crying my eyes out while having ice cream.
We had a bit of an epic meltdown recently on a trip to the local "ice cream shop." Meazi and Melese wanted to go the chain Tutti Fruitti to consume whatever chemical it is they serve. I am not a fan of this place. The only thing that is good about it is that you can choose how much you want to purchase. A tiny dollop is about all I can stomach. Perhaps it is just the location of ours. It is in a new mall that is, in my opinion, at a scuzzy corner of Los Angeles. The shop itself is always way too warm. It is stuffy, and not very clean. There are always denizens right outside the door smoking, and the cigarette smell comes wafting in under the door.
When we went in the other day, Meazi had a sample of their watermelon flavor. As soon as she tasted it she burst into tears, and hurled herself onto one of the banquettes, "It's too cold Mamma! It's too cold." She wailed and wailed. I'd never seen her react that way before, to anything. I tasted the sample to see WTF was going on, and it seemed fine (if a sugary chemical can ever be fine). Meazi cried and cried and held her head complaining of brain freeze. I held her in my arms and suggested we go home. Not wanting to miss ice cream, no matter how bad it made her feel, she pulled herself together, filled a cup and topped it with a bunch of scuzzy, most likely sneezed on, toppings. It was a very weird moment with Meazi and I was almost relieved that she was just coming down with something. She got sick the next day, and eventually had to have antibiotics.
Melese had his own cup of something at Tutti Fruitti. While sitting on their tiny kiddie chairs, he also burst into tears TWICE- once when he noticed Meazi had Oreos on her frozen substance and he did not, and once when his plastic grimy chair accidentally shot out from beneath him causing him to land flat on his butt, and causing his cup of chemicals to bounce (luckily upright) on the floor.
Steven and I looked at each other and made a joke that we often make when things like this happen- "DCFS". We surreptitiously looked around to see what person in the room was going to report us to the Department of Children and Family Services. Surely they will think that these children don't belong to us, if they did they would be comfortable and happy and not WAILING IN SADNESS WHILE HAVING ICE CREAM!!
It was a debacle. Truly. We will not be returning there. Ever.
We need the ice cream shop of my childhood. I Googled and YELPed, but Los Angeles is a very strange place and most Los Angelenos wouldn't think of consuming such fattening, dairy ridden items. Did you see Angelina's arms at the OSCARS?! She probably only eats Pinkberry and probably limits herself to less than an ounce per year.