Today, something completely abnormal happened (and I’m not talking about the eclipse.)
This morning, while sitting on the porch drinking coffee, my husband – brace yourself – read the Style & Seen section of the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette. After ten years of marriage, I have never known him to read, or even glance, at what I think of as the ‘society pages.’ But not only did he read it, he commented on Natalie Bencivenga’s piece about the recent Ice Cream Fundae event at the Pittsburgh Zoo & PPG Aquarium to raise funds for Pressley Ridge.
“Listen to these numbers,” he said, reading from her dispatch. “More than 2,100 ice cream enthusiasts enjoyed 400 gallons of Graeter’s Ice Cream…”
He emphasized the 400 gallons part and looked at me with a grave expression. “That’s almost a quart of ice cream per person,” he said in disbelief.
Clearly, this shocked him, and because I completely trusted his mental calculations, I instantly agreed that this seemed like irrefutable gluttony.
But I was having a hard time visualizing exactly how much a quart of ice cream was, so, after he left for work, I did my own calculations, which meant I relied heavily on Google to calculate everything for me. I admit I’m not a math person, so I hope my methodology was correct in determining how many ounces are in 400 gallons divided by 2,100 people. The bottom line was that I estimated there was enough for each person at the fundraiser to consume 24 ounces, or 3 cups of ice cream.
We recently bought a case of Breyer’s ice cream “snack cups” and we were both excited about it because each 3-ounce cup contained only 100 calories. By comparison, we would each have to eat 8 of these containers to equal the 3 cups of ice cream and Lord-knows-how-many-calories consumed by the Pressley Ridge supporters. (I’m proud to say I calculated this myself.)
Here’s the problem. Machines can do what humanity can’t. Human beings are not capable of scooping 3 ounces of ice cream. Go grab a scooper and try, but ice cream is one of those things that evoke our evolutionary instinct to go big or go home. Nobody can scoop a measly 100 calories, so, in my opinion, pre-measured, single serve ice cream cups are a wonderful invention.
My husband hates to waste anything, so if I couldn’t finish eating one of his monster scoops of ice cream, it would irk him. Even if I threatened something ridiculous and drastic, like never shaving my legs again if he gave me more than 3 ounces of ice cream, he would still be incapable of scooping anything less than a big, fat, giant, scoop.
So I’m not going to judge the 2,100 ice cream enthusiasts who were at the zoo last week for the charity event. I’m sure some people ate more, some ate less, and maybe some ice cream was left over, though probably not the “She Sells Salted Caramel on the Sea Shore,” which Natalie says was voted the best flavor of the event. Pressley Ridge is a wonderful organization that does so much for our kids and communities. In the spirit of fun and charity, I would have been happy to hold my own with salted caramel ice cream.
But tonight, I’m going to have a 100-calorie snack cup of Breyer’s Natural Vanilla ice cream and I’m going to enjoy every ounce – all 3 of them.
Now I’m curious to see what my husband reads in the society pages tomorrow.
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