Monday, July 26, 2010

ice cream monsters


They say a young woman is attracted to men who portray similar traits to her father. I never really chose to believe this theory. My father, while he is one of my few heroes, is quiet, reserved, often distant and never bubbly. I am most attracted to humor, wit and intimacy. However, little by little, I am starting to realize that my current love interest displays more and more parallels to my father.
While my boyfriend's exceedingly hairy chest is the most obvious connection to my father's own "fur coat", there are very peculiar likenesses rising to the surface, the most recent one being their love affair with ice cream.
From the time i turned 16 to the day I left home for college, a minimum of 4 weekdays each week, between the hours of 7 and 830 pm, my father would summon me with the whispering phrase, "Hey dane dane, how bout some ice cream." While the obvious fix, for some, would be to head into the kitchen and dish out a heaping scoop of the vanilla ice cream always present in our house, his favorite daughter knew this was not his wish. He wanted soft serve, and he wanted it from Dairy Queen. He wanted one medium sized chocolate sundae with pecans to be exact. And on the off-chance that I would come home bearing 'hot fudge' on his sundae instead of 'chocolate sauce' I knew the outcome would be my trek back across town to correct his specific order. No cherries, no whip cream, no bullshit. I knew the drill. I also knew that I had created a minute income for myself throughout these years as I was given a $10 bill each night even though his sundae was around $3 and we both knew I would be keeping the change.
Many years later, while I have been far removed from dad's nightly routine, I have lately found myself in the middle of a new one. While his summoning phrase is slightly different, and his order not alike, my boyfriend has now also made me his DQ girl.

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