Sweet Scoop

A favorite dessert of any sane person, ice cream enters my house, carried by my father. The only thing I dread in such a situation, is it is in a tub or cardboard packaging? I cross my fingers, wishing it to be in cardboard packaging as he takes it out of the dusted, dull cloth bag. Alas! It's a tub. My head starts playing the flashbacks of all the times I had to deal with this abomination of packaging.

Scanning my expression, my father says, "It's ok, it's easy anyway" and as expected, receives a glare from my side and choses to stay silent. Dinner is over, everyone is ready for dessert and I am ready to face the struggle. I open the tub, hold a big spoon and take a deep breath. First dig in, so far so good, time to scoop out. Gathering all my strength, I try to scoop the ice cream out as the edges of the spoon's handle dig into my palm and I wish we had bought a scooper. Having served everyone equally, I sit down to enjoy the fruit of my hard work and feel accomplished and as if it was all worth it.