Frosty

I'm really not surprised when I gain weight in pregnancy, I fully admit that I eat entirely too much ice cream. Like right now, I am plotting how I will stop for a Frosty from Wendy's on the way home today. There was a minor crisis here at work, and I screamed and flailed my arms about and -people-actually-jumped-. I mean, they took me seriously, and thought something had to be done. Rockin'. It's Frosty time, dooo doo do do.

I craved ice cream on our Boston trip, too, and forced Esposo to hunt for the ice cream because he kept FOILING my ice cream need. We walked down Commonwealth Ave on Thursday night, for a very. long. way. after eating nachos at the Sunset Grill. I was full, but craved the ice cream. I had seen ice cream places (Baskin Robbins, I believe) on the way TO Fenway Park, and presumed we would follow the same route home. When we returned on the opposite side of the street, I assumed that was the side out car was on, or Esposo had a plan, as I had mentioned the ice cream need. Turns out, he just wanted to walk on the other side of the street. WHERE THERE WERE NO ICE CREAM STORES. I was VERY disappointed and also queasy and I went home and threw up some. Thank you, baby. By that, I mean the one growing inside me.

All day Friday I STILL got no ice cream, and it wasn't until we were driving out the the rehearsal dinner that we finally stopped at a Wendy's for a Frosty. And they asked us if we wanted vanilla or chocolate.

Huh? We only have CHOCOLATE Frostys here in the Midwest, and I thought that was the whole definition of a Frosty - that it be chocolate. What's with the VANILLA Frosty, eh?