I've fallen and I can't get up.

Thud.

Did you hear it?

The distinctive thud of me falling off the ‘sweets only once a month’ wagon? I’m not sure how you missed it. It’s become a daily occurrence.

Some say the road to hell is paved with good intentions. Actually, I think it’s paved with ice cream. Mint Chip, Chocolate Peanut Butter, Cookie Dough, Strawberry and Old Fashioned Vanilla. Sometimes the road to hell is dotted with ice cream sandwiches and sundae cones (also known as drumsticks, you know, the ones with the hard chocolate shell sprinkled with peanuts). The road could be paved with custard, but custard is too rich. Ice Cream is better. Real ice cream. Not soft serve. Ice cream. Am I making my point clear?

Ice cream is my Achilles heel. (As if you hadn’t guessed) And it’s summer. Summer is for ice cream. I’m screaming for ice cream. It’s so tasty. Curses!

The ‘sweets only once a month’ wagon has been rolling back and forth over my body for a few weeks now. But due to the uptick of butterfat and heavy cream in my diet, no bones have been broken. There is padding. Ice cream filled padding.

Fudge.

Except I’m not thinking fudge. Well, unless it’s Mackinac Island Fudge. I digress.

I’m thinking the "F – dash – dash - dash" word because I’ve failed the challenge. I’ve fallen off the  wagon but landed safely in the dish of ice cream. An endless dish. Yum.

I could sit here and flat out lie that I’m giving up ice cream for the summer, but honestly, I have a better chance of winning the SuperCash. I can’t do it. I can’t. I’ve tried. Not possible. I do have the ability to give up ice cream and everything else sweet in the winter/cooler months, but summer screams for ice cream. It calls to me and I’m answering. My only hope of surviving the ice cream phenomena is cramming in a few more workouts to keep all the ice cream goodness from permanently taking up residence in my thighs. My only saving grace is Wisconsin has only 3 months of summer and 9 months of winter so my deep dive in the ice cream bowl is short-lived.

Summer and ice cream is a big glorified rationalization. I admit it. I’m an ice cream-aholic. But to be honest, I have no real inclination to be cured of my addiction. None. Nada. Pass me a spoon.