My high school friend Chrissy had orange hair. I suppose some people could have called it “red” or “strawberry blonde”, but what it really was, was orange. I thought it was gorgeous and wished my hair were that exact color. It was like sunlight distilled into long, sleek strands. I lost touch with Chrissy a few years after we graduated. That happened a lot in the days before facebook and email. But I still have ice cream dishes she gave me for my wedding and the card she sent me when Kiki was born.
I’m thinking about Chrissy today because of the ice cream sandwiches. I had a hankering for some, and Howard bought them at the store. In a quiet moment, I curled up on a couch away from the kids and peeled the wrapper off the chocolate and vanilla goodness. The problem with ice cream sandwiches is that one is never enough, but usually they are a rationed commodity. Whenever they appear at family events or group picnics there is only one per person, to make sure everyone has one.
Chrissy and I lamented this rationing, and so one afternoon we hopped on our bikes and pedaled down to the little market on the corner. With our own money, we each bought a box of six ice cream sandwiches. If we took them home, sharing with siblings would be required. So we tipped our bikes over in the grass and lay in the sunshine while we proceeded to eat our way through both boxes. We laughed as we ate, knowing it was a bit silly to be triumphant over such a small thing, but somehow it represented freedom. We’d made the plan, earned the money, and made happen a goal that mattered to no one but us. When the treats were gone, we biked back to a world of homework and rationed ice cream. We intended to repeat the adventure, but now I can’t remember if we ever did.
These days I have enough money that I could fill my freezer with ice cream sandwiches. I could create a world for my children where ice cream is not rationed. They would love it, but it would not be good for them. Children who have everything they want are robbed of the opportunity to triumph. If I’d had all the ice cream sandwiches I wanted, I would not have the bright memory of an afternoon with my friend, nor that first taste of adult freedom.
For today, I’m going to go have another ice cream sandwich and send happy thoughts to Chrissy, wherever she may be.