Unforgivable

I'm pretty sure any woman who is now or has ever been pregnant will tell you: don't get between a pregnant woman and her food. Sadly, a member of our household broke that rule yesterday, and was almost thrown out the window.

Don't worry -- it wasn't Soren. It was our ice cream maker. We always had such a good relationship, Ice Cream Maker! Why did you betray me?????? WHYYYYYYYYYYYY!?!?!?!?!?!?

I'd made custard for chocolate ice cream on Tuesday (the end product has been described as "like a punch in the mouth with a chocolate bar," which is definitely a good thing), but I forgot to put the stupid ice-creamifying bowl in the freezer in time, so I froze the bowl and chilled the custard overnight, and was all ready to roll yesterday after Soren went to bed.

With anticipation in my heart, hunger in my belly, and a stretchy waistband on my pants, I turned on the ice cream maker, set the timer for 30 minutes and waited. At last, the timer summoned me to whip the towel (extra insulation) off the ice cream maker and behold...........

Custard.

Chilly custard, to be sure, but not fluffy, frozen, edible ICE CREAM which I WANTED RIGHT THAT SECOND and I COULDN'T EVEN GO TO THE STORE TO GET CRAPPY SUBSTITUTE ICE CREAM BECAUSE THERE ARE LAWS AGAINST LEAVING YOUR TODDLER ALONE IN THE HOUSE.

But I did not defenestrate the traitorous appliance. I decided to put both bowls in the freezer overnight again and give it a second chance. And yes, OKAY, I did eat some of the custard before I put it back in the fridge, but only enough to convince myself it wasn't really the same and I should hold out for the real thing.

Wish me luck tonight. I'd hate to have to do anything rash.