Ice Cream

Everyone in this family, with the exception of the Pumbs, who hates ice cream, selects flavors that no one else will eat. There is a good reason for this. If others like your ice cream, the first pig across the finish line on a container of his own ice cream will then move on to the next tub that belongs to someone else. Kind of like locusts. So I pick the ice cream ickiest to them all... just to ensure that I get some.... PEPPERMINT STICK! This ice cream is out only during the holidays, so I only get it once a year, mainly because I don't eat my ice cream all gone in less than 24 hours. So imagine my surprise when I opened my container of peppermint stick, which has been declared ICKY!, by all my fellow cave dwellers, and found that half of it had disappeared in a scooping pattern different from my own. I dig for the bottom and scrape the sides only when my knuckles start hitting them. Someone had made a level eating field. All living things in the cave, including the cats, denied involvement. They accused a culprit named Not Me. I warned them all that if they touched my ice cream, they will not live to see another birthday. Of course, Not Me was already plotting his next excursion into the heavenly tub of Peppermint Stick. But I have a solution to all that. I moved the ice cream into a plastic container and hid it in the freezer. You might think that there are limits on where you can hide something that requires temperatures below freezing for its continued existence. But I built it a Fortress of Solitude beneath a pile of frozen cauliflower and carrots and hid it from view. The knuckle draggers that live with me won't see it if it isn't obvious. Plus I tossed the empty container at the top of the trash for all to see. Now that my ice cream is in witness protection, I can enjoy it at my leisure.