Today I have a special treat for you, my new friend and blogging buddy Myndi Shafer is guest posting today to worn us of the dangers of an seemingly innocent frozen treat.
Popsicles. I love ’em. For so many reasons. So sit your butt down while I wax
poetic about the virtues of the rainbow colored family of frozen treats.
#1: They’re dangerous. You don’t think so? Listen to this: They’re cold. So cold,
that if you eat them too quickly, you run the risk of freezing your brain plumb off.
PLUMB OFF, people. I swear I’ve had this nearly happen to me multiple times,
and while in the moment it’s terrifying, after it’s over…whew! What a rush. The
danger factor is definitely a perk, especially for those of us who wish we were into
extreme sports, but aren’t. I never feel quite as dangerous as I do when there’s a
popsicle in my hand.
#2: Adding to the danger factor is this little fact: They melt. You have to eat
them quickly (running the risk of destroying brain matter), and if you don’t, they
melt. All over your hands, your clothes. Leaving you sticky and stained. You
walk a fine line while eating popsicles. Too fast, dead brain. Too slow,
permanently stained garments. Sure, your hands will wash, but facts are facts:
Red Cherry and Blueberry flavored popsicles stain forever. Some people think
that souls are the only thing that are eternal. I say souls, and popsicle stains.
#3: Danger isn’t the only thing that makes popsicles so attractive. They’re sweet,
but not in a heavy, ice-creamy way. Don’t get me wrong. I love ice-cream. I do.
But sometimes you just don’t want a creamy, sugary concoction resting in your
gut. Sometimes you want an artificially flavored, high-fructose corn-syrup
sweetened watery-frozen concoction instead. *raises hand and jumps up and
down a little* I do! I do!
#4: The thing that sets popsicles aside from the standard ice-cream cone is this:
The jokes. The popsicle takes the cake for this fact alone. Because the popsicle is
a giver. It doesn’t simply satisfy our child-like pallets, or our need to live
dangerously. No, the popsicle wants to invest in our minds by asking us
questions. Questions we have to wait to get the answers to until our tasty treat is
gone. Questions that not only make us think, but make us laugh. Oh, dearest
reader. This is the sign of a true friend.
Take a couple of these gems, straight from the sticks that I collected today (there
is a small chance this post was brought on by a four-month old fetus demanding
popsicles, and the sticks might be the evidence) as examples:
Why did the baseball fan give the house a pair of sneakers? Because he wanted to
see a home run. *ba-dum-bum*
What do you call a pony that surfs? A seahorse. *giggle, snort*
What did Mr. and Mrs. Steak name their son? Chuck. *snicker*
And so, my friendlies, let us all revel in the wonder that is the popsicle. I wish
you all happy weekends with dye-stained tongues, non-frozen brains, and new
jokes to share with your friends.
To find out more about Myndi check out her blog Myndi’s Awesome Blog
So what is your favorite popsicle? Mine the lime ones from Trader Joes.