Friday, January 25, 2008

How I got Pulled into the Schwan's Trap

Yesterday I just had to get out of the house. The temperature was below zero for the, well, I've lost count how many days in a row now. After his morning nap I loaded up William, his lunch and the rest of his gear and headed to Caribou. It was a great little break. Nice to see other adults even if it was only eavesdropping in on their adult conversations.

When my cup of coffee was finished and William was at his tipping point, we left. When I got in the car I noticed that my gas tank was nearing empty which is a big no-no in Minnesota in the winter so I drove across the street to the Kwik Trip that seems to always have the best prices and car wash in Woodbury. (Tangent: How many different ways can you possibly spell the word "quick"? Really. I think they've covered them all.)

As I was filling up I noticed a Schwan's truck parked over on the side of the station. Now this is about the third time I've seen this truck parked here at this very gas station. I decided it was probably a sign from God. That and the fact that I had nothing planned for dinner and it was, after all, our most holy of weeknights. Thursday!

The Schwan's man was so very nice and told me that I needn't come to Kwik Trip whenever I wanted something Schwan's, he would just drive right on over to my house. Huh, imagine that! Now truth be told I really have no one else to blame for getting myself roped into this program but my own mother. We grew up with Schwan's treats. Pizzas, brats, caramel rolls, juice bars, I bet we've tried them all. But it's the ice cream that is really my weakness.

It is the ice cream for which all other ice creams will be compared against. I've tried and I've tried and each time Brian looks at me and says, "Good enough?" I shake my head in disappointment. Brian, poor thing, did not grow up with Schwan's at his house. I would imagine with eight people in your house it would get somewhat spendy trying to feed that monster with the deliciousness of Schwan's.

So I ordered some things, including chocolate ice cream, and reluctantly paid with a check. A check. That means he now has my address. How will I ever overcome this weakness if that very same truck pulls into my driveway?

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