The husband returns from shopping with four, count them, four cartons of Haagen Daz!
“”We said we weren’t going to have ice cream in the house any more because I can’t stop once I take a spoonful.”
I moan and check the flavors. Butter Pecan, my fave. Chocolate, chocolate chip. Not so bad , either. And two are Vanilla, almonds and chocolate bits. Well that does it.
“Honey, I planned to hide them in back of the freezer section . You’d never know.””
“Never know? You leave an ice cream coated spoon in the sink and believe I ‘d never notice?” Okay. He’s ill and I forgive him but he’s a guy and doesn’t know women don’t take one bit of a brownie or a taste of cake. It’s part of us built in for centuries.
This brings me to another subject. When I see a writer’s book for sale .99 cents, I shiver and wonder what value does the author place on month’s of work, the angst and hours that go into a story. Or box sales? Buy one, get one free? I don’t get it. My personal feeling is value yourself and your words. The author is an artist. Don’t give your treasure away for ranking or a boost in sales. Call me old fashioned. I’m expressing myself.
Any thoughts out there? You’re welcome to spill. I have plenty of Haagen Daz to share but not for long.