Fifty Shades of Sundae

As I mentioned, two nights ago, we went as a family (minus one...and no, still not even remotely used to that) to the Harvester, where Ma had her multi-salad meal and the rest of us had...y'know, real food.
When we finished, d picked up the dessert menu. I snatched it from her, and perused. It's been the kind of week where everybody's wonderfully understanding as you stuff your face, and make reassuring noises about "getting back on track once all the turmoil's over". And they're all absolutely right of course. But I figured - with the kind of evil, twisted, advantage-taking whisper in the brain of the truly addictive - "Wellll, if you're gonna be getting back on track when the turmoil's over anywayyyyy..."

Mmmmm...Sundaes. Lots and lots of sundaes. Single choc, double choc, double choc fudge, double choc fudge with chocolate stars, then banoffee sundaes, coffee sundaes, strawberries and a shitload of cream sundaes. Honeycomb sundaes, caramel sundaes, every-goddamn-thing-imaginable sundaes, and I wanted them all. I wondered about getting a kind of double, inverted glass dish, and pouring one sundae on top of another, to make a kind of sundae sandwich, then setting up two more either side and making a kind of ice cream viaduct, and eating my way through the many flavours of sundae available.

"Can I get the bill, please?" asked Ma, and the ice-cream architecture in my mind collapsed, and melted, and flowed away, and I was saved, one more day, from my own instincts.

That all said, everybody is right, with their soothing words and certainties. We bury my dad three days from now....Nope, still seems perverse and surreal, and like he should come in any minute and wonder what all the fuss is about...but once that's done, it's straight on to the Night Hike, and when we come back, I'm thinking of going back to a world of Perspex Boxes and Exercise. It worked before, and it can work again, and at least I'll be starting with a 3.some-odd stone head-start on the first time. Perspex Boxes seem to be the way for me - I'm sure Aristotle would be disappointed, and frankly so am I. But a failure of integration can clearly still be a success in terms of the impact it has on a lifestyle. So Perspex has to be the way to go.