We take the children out for ice cream at Baskin Robbins every once and again. On a couple of occasions, one of the younger kids chose a clown-flavor – something like cotton candy, pink bubblegum, or rainbow sherbet.
I tried to convince her that she was making a mistake. “What about Oreo or Rocky Road? You love those… Are you sure?” She could not resist the pull of the bright contrasting colors. She pointed enthusiastically and announced her selection to everyone in the shop. As the apron-clad employee extended the single scoop to my daughter, she reached out with two hands and awed excitement. The cares of the world melted away as she took that first taste.
After a few more bites though, my daughter noticed my chocolate fudge cone and how much I was enjoying it. She asked for a taste. Then another. Then she offered a trade. I rejected it knowing that I had chosen the ideal flavor for my palette. Then came the tears, pointing, and denunciations. Her mother stepped in to console her and resolve the situation.
So there I was holding a bright blue and/or pink ice cream cone and watching my little girl smear chocolate all over her face. Of course I still ate the sticky cone but was not happy about it.
Our family has a phrase for the times when life is objectively amazing yet somehow miserable. We call it “ice cream angry.” These are the moments when we are holding a figurative ice cream cone on a perfect summer day and still screaming. We look around and see people who have seemingly larger scoops, better flavors, or more toppings.
Examples of ice cream angry people are all around us: millionaires unhappy with their paychecks, Olympians disappointed with their silver medals, spouses upset at their devoted but imperfect partners, and plane passengers dissatisfied with the Wi-Fi connection when flying 500 mph through the sky!
What if we are all ice cream angry in a way? What if we could step back and see that so much of life is glorious and beautiful? What if we could forget the unfairness of it all and remember that we are each holding an oversized ice cream cone?
Echoes of meaning 
(I like the phrase “ice cream angry.” I’ll be using that, especially in my search for divine perspective. 😉 )
LikeLiked by 1 person
The question “are you getting a little ice cream angry right now?” is a good way to break the tension with my kids.
LikeLiked by 2 people
When I was in college and having body image issues, I was upset about having “fat legs” as I passed the full-length mirror in the gym on my way out to the pool. When I opened the door and saw wheelchairs everywhere, I realized quickly that it was a day dedicated to special needs children. There were about 50 kids sitting around the pool, waiting for a volunteer to lift them into the water so they could splash around. Some of them had no legs, others had legs that weren’t functioning. Some were laughing with delight as they were swung around in the water by a big person. Obviously, I was thoroughly rebuked.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Great story and addition to the post! Thank you so much for sharing.
LikeLike
This is nothing new. Adam and Eve had the perfect life in the perfect environment, and what did they want? The ONE thing they couldn’t have. (With a little prompting from God’s enemy.)
LikeLiked by 1 person
I searched for other words or phrases that describe feeling discontent with perfection, but I could not find any. If you come across one or have a good ice cream angry story, I hope you will share it.
LikeLiked by 1 person