 |  |
 | there was plenty |
ME: Is the ice cream in the freezer new, or is there, like, one bite left in that carton?
DANE: [stares.]
DANE: [stares.]
DANE: [stares.]
ME: Do you not know?
DANE: What do I look like, the ice cream monitor?
Maybe I’ll make him an official badge.
Why would he not know? If he was the last in the freezer or the last to have ice cream, it’s his job. Who the hell does not know? I thought everyone had, like, an internal photographic ice cream level immediate retrieval system that always maintains stats. And if there are two grownups in the house, one MUST know how much is left.
I say he’s broken. Take him back.
Or ban him from the ice cream. That’ll learn him. If he can’t keep good stats, he doesn’t get any more. That’s right. It’s popsicles for you from now on, buddy.
Yeah, man! Ice cream is all for me. Because what I really need is an excuse to eat even more ice cream.