When I chip you chip we chip.

Typically I am pretty good with my portions. If you give me a big chocolate bar, I will eat it in small chunks over a series of days.

If I bake a spice cake, I will eat it in small pieces, and it will take me at least a week to finish. (I actually did that, but I didn’t blog it yet.) (WHY I did that is still unclear/stupid.)

It is probably okay for me to buy a big bag of Baked Ruffles, but it’s safer to buy the individual-sized bags. (Sometimes the giant bag FEELS like an individual size– you know?)

But I am really bad with ice cream. It calls to me.

A few weeks ago, Mr. Tea and I bought the Dreyer’s Slow-Churned Drumstick ice cream. It’s the best parts of a Drumstick all covered in chocolate and swirled around in vanilla ice cream (a bit like Ben & Jerry’s Stephen Colbert’s AmeriCone Dream, which was a danger to my health when we had it in the old office’s kitchen).

I don’t know what it was (perhaps the awesome just-home-from-the-store melty-ness action), but I ate that slow-churned ice cream until my stomach was doing a churn of its own. Maybe half the container, which is probably double the size of a human stomach. I never learn!

Luckily Mr. Tea retained custody of the ice cream, because even after a mundo stomachache, I wanted to eat it again the next day. (See: I never learn!)

When I saw the new Ben & Jerry’s Jimmy Fallon Late Night Snack ice cream at Gelson’s last week (seriously, they carry every flavor of everything), I was mighty tempted by the prospect of chocolate-covered potato chips. But I held myself back, because I just can’t be trusted around ice cream-y goodness.

I ALMOST bought the mini-size of AmeriCone Dream to console myself, but that just seemed like a slippery slope to a freezer full of mini AmeriCone Dreams.

If you’re like me, there IS a way to keep ice cream around the house– sorta. I buy individual-serving ice cream– like the Skinny Cow cones, or the Weight Watchers English Toffee Crunch Bars. And I don’t let myself eat more than one. (I could just ban them from the house, but that would only resort in teeth-gnashing or spending $4/cup at nearby Gelato Bar.)

So yeah, I’m not trying the Jimmy Fallon ice cream unless I can take one scoop and hand off the rest of it to some sort of ice cream parole officer. Until that day arrives (?), I will console myself with the delightful giraffe song. (Apparently the video is expired? WTF, that was the best thing ever.)

(Okay, now I don’t know what to console myself with.)

Another solution: I need to be amongst many, many other people– people who will eat the ice cream before I can go too crazy on it. Basically I need to have an ice cream-tasting party, and send everybody home with the leftovers. (OR they need to release the mini-size of the Fallon flavor.) (No wait, I already nixed that idea.)

How do you deal with those foods that you love so much, you have to set them free (from your kitchen)?


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