The Domestic Diva Mysteries
by Krista Davis
Did you know that July 15th was National Ice Cream Day? President Reagan proclaimed that in 1984. If you missed it and didn't celebrate, it's evidently never too late to eat ice cream. Apparently each of us eats about 23 pounds of the stuff each year. I suspect I might eat more than my share.
Especially when there's an ice cream bar. Roscoe Greene always has an ice cream bar at his company picnic and open house. It's fabulous. Vanilla, chocolate, strawberry, mint chocolate chip, peach, and lemon -- and those are just the ice creams. You get to doctor your own sundae or banana split with hot fudge sauce, chocolate sauce, caramel sauce, and since Roscoe is a southern good old boy he insists on marshmallow sauce, too. And another one of Roscoe's favorites, cherry pie filling!
Did I mention the sprinkles and nuts? Fresh raspberries and blueberries? Pineapple and all sorts of crushed candies? Actually, as parties go, it doesn't break the bank and everyone raves about it.
Except for his new wife, who seems to want more upscale foods. Seriously? At a picnic? Who doesn't love ice cream?
Roscoe has asked me (shh!) to take her in hand and make sure she adheres to a budget when they entertain. He seems willing to accommodate her desires for fancier parties, but he's not giving her free rein.
Personally, I'm a little concerned because she ordered a delivery of cow manure just before the party. Can you imagine the stench in the hot summer sun? Oof!
We handled that. I wish I were as adept at handling my ex-husband. I'm never sure if he's flirting with me. We had that one moment, you know, and it just haunts me.
Maybe ice cream will make me feel better. Peppermint, I think, with chocolate sauce. What's your favorite?
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