The Core of Me.

"MOOSETRACKS! YES!!!"

 

I grabbed the very last Moosetracks tub of ice cream that existed on Edisto Island in South Carolina. We were on our honeymoon and I needed that ice cream. I love Moosetracks. It is my celebration station food. I wanted to celebrate my marriage, heretofor, I needed that ice cream, swirled with delicious peanut butter cups and fudge in one tiny tub.

 

My eyes laid hold on the safety tab. Sometime in its shipment to the island the safety tab had been popped off. Did I care? No. I've eaten dung beetles. Ain't nobody got time for sealed food. But I knew someone who cared. I tried to cover it with my hand before-

 

"Babe, the safety tab is broken."

 

I slowly raised my eyes to meet the eyes of my new husband. He cared about safety tabs. He cared about clean food.

 

:sigh: "It's fiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiine......" I started to put the Moosetracks into the cart. We had agreed in the grocery budget to get a tub of ice cream. That last tub of Moosetracks needed to be purchased. I would fight for it. But I don't want him to be grossed out either.....

 

"Are you going to be able to eat it?" I asked.

 

He tried to lovingly contain his grossed out expression, "Can we get the banana split ice cream instead?"

 

I begrudgingly strayed my gaze to the top shelf. There lie piles and piles of banana split ice cream.

 

DO YOU WANT TO KNOW WHY THERE WERE PILES?!?! BECAUSE IT IS DISGUSTING.

 

DO YOU WANT TO KNOW WHY THERE WAS ONE PARTIALLY OPENED TUB OF MOOSETRACKS? BECAUSE IT IS THE EIGHTH WONDER OF THE WORLD.

 

 

 

For two days I suffered through banana flavored ice cream.....TWO DAYS!

 

We finally got through that tub of goo and returned to the Bi-Lo store where lo and behold! A restocking of the Moosetracks had happened! What glory! What joy! What feasting shall be had!

 

We returned home to hang out for the afternoon. Poolside, movies, and snuggling. Gloriousness.

 

I have always had Moosetracks for myself. Always. I buy a tub of ice cream, eat the areas that I desire, and leave the remains for the trash.

 

"What does she mean, 'eat the areas that she desires'" You ask?

 

For those of you who have purchased Moosetracks, you know that during the mixing of materials at the ice cream factory, the fudge and the brunt of the peanut butter cups swirl and reside in the very middle of the ice cream tub, also known as THE CORE, leaving nothing but basic vanilla ice cream on the outer hemispheres. The core of that tub is the promised land, the Mecca, the haven of ice rest. I only eat the core. It embodies who I am inside.

 

So while my hubs ate dinner, I skipped the meal in order to devour not one, but three bowls of ice cream, all consisting of the core of my 'Tracks, I mean OUR ‘Tracks in its entirety. Then it was time for a hot shower, since my body temperature had lowered to dangerous levels due to ice cream-induced hypothermia.

“Honey, I’m gonna shower. Just to let you know, I ate the core of the ice cream.”

 

End scene.

 

Until, as I was in the shower, I hear,

 

“ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!?!?!!!!!!”

 

I know that sound. I make that sound when I realize the core is gone. Gone forever. I wince and take as long as possible to finish rinsing my hair.

 

Afterwards I gently step out of the bathroom, as if surrounded by mousetraps, trying not to awaken the beast.

 

Silence.

 

Silence.

 

Silence.

 

Lots of silence followed. Then bedtime.

 

Then it happened.

 

“I’m frustrated.”

 

“About what?”

“When you said you ate the core of the ice cream, I didn’t know you literally meant the whole core of the ice cream tub. You took the best part. You left me with vanilla.”

 

“I’m sorry, dear. This is who I am. This is what I do.”

 

End scene.

 

Haha! Not really. A discussion followed, with a gentle man and a disgruntled woman who didn’t want to admit her wrongdoing. HOWEVER,

 

I was convicted, man.

 

I’d been selfish, man.

 

I was a jerk, man.

 

 

 

Marriage is more than about YOU. I knew what I was doing, but I had considered my selfishness as a part of “who I was,” a “personality trait of mine,” a “lovable quirk.” What it really was, was a CHARACTER FLAW. It was a SELFISH ACT.

 

The most difficult part of marriage so far? Leaving some of the core for the love of my life.

 

Oh it’s easy you say? THAT STUFF IS LIKE CRACK. You try for yourself and THEN YOU JUDGE ME!

 

Sometimes I convince myself that a character flaw that I expose is really just a part of who I am and that people need to just deal with it.

 

That’s not the case.

 

I am flawed. Wisdom comes when one knows that they contain flaws, that they should be teachable, and that they can always be better. Marriage brings out the raw side of that, but it is also a beautiful way of shaping and molding your character into something greater.

 

I have to work on this ever day, and most of the time it deals with edible substances.

 

Let’s examine the “core” of ourselves, shall we? ;)