ice cream

This afternoon, on our way to the hardware store, Otis and I stopped for an ice cream treat. He didn't have a clue that it was in my hand until we stopped at a public bench, and he glimpsed it in my hand. He looked meaningfully at it. I offered it to him, and he moved his mouth on it as though he were trying to suck it through a straw. Then he got this disgusted look on his face as he wrinkled his nose. The cold surprised him. But a second later, he yelped for it. Then the face. Then the yelping. And so on and so on. Does the kid not realize that it's the very thing that he wants that is so cold that he has to wrinkle his nose in disgust?

In the interest of full disclosure, I will confess that this photograph is actually a RE-ENACTMENT of the ice cream eating, and in the interest of historical accuracy, this reenactment shows him gobbling Ben and Jerry's The Gobfather rather than the Cookies 'n Cream from the cheapie Indian restaurant. Now I told you so don't be all playing Oprah to my James Frey, OK people?