Ice Cream Doesn’t Taste the Same When We’re Adults

Over the weekend, I went with my girlfriend and friends to Chapel Hill, NC. The University was lovely and the city, beautiful. But what my friends wanted more than anything was ice cream.

Ben and Jerry’s.

So we went, I had Late Night Snack! And while I was there and ordered the ice cream, I had to so an odd little dance where I took the ice cream and handed the cashier my debit card at the same time.

And it all made sense.

As kids, we’re handed ice cream for (at least what seems to us) free. It doesn’t matter that we just cost our parents money–we have ice cream and the world is all right.

Then we grow up, and the seemingly endless supplies of complimentary ice cream dry up like a lake of sherbet on a hot summer’s day in Death Valley. We now have to pay for it, and somehow that changes the experience.


Not that it makes it suck more, but by having to pay for it part of the magic we had as kids fades. Handing over those bills or that debit card is akin to handing over that wide-eyed sense of magic we originally had as kids and reducing it to just another business transaction. But we don’t have to reduce it to a transaction all the time. Our inner child is still alive within us and there’s no reason why he shouldn’t be invited to play every now and then.

Deep down inside, you scream. I scream. We all scream for Ice Cream. Deep down, we all just want to play Freeze Tag and go wade in a pool and jump into a ball pit. So why not go on an expedition to dig deep and to bring that up to the surface. Our inner child will thank us for it.


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