I’ve written before about my life long friend, Miss B. Our families did everything together when we kids. Miss B would eat ANYTHING. There’s no telling how many times I heard “Don’t you want to be more like Miss B, just try it!”
When we were 5 or 6, Miss B and I went to day camp together. When you go to Girl Scout Camp, your parents fill out a paper with everything you can’t eat. They have this rule, anything that’s not on your paper, you HAVE to try a “Brownie Bite.”
Even though Miss B would eat ANYTHING, for some reason her mom put milk down on her paper. I’m pretty sure my own mom just wrote “good luck” and left very quickly.
One of the activities we did was make ice cream. I’m not exactly sure how this did or was supposed to happen, but they gave each of us plastic cups full of milk, and some other stuff, then gave us Popsicle sticks to mash it all up and turn it into ice cream.
I hated milk, like if-you-make-me-drink-that-I’m-going-to-throw-it-up-all-over-the-floor-just-to-be-spiteful hated it.
Since Miss B’s mom wrote “milk” on her list, she got to make ice cream out of Sprite.
I all together flipped out. She still talks about it. I didn’t even want to LOOK at the milk, much less hold it in my hot little hands, mix it with the Popsicle stick, and then EAT it. I’m sure the staff were like “holy hell, what kind of kid hates ice cream?” So of course, they made me try it, and of course, I threw it up. When they called my mom, she probably laughed and said “I told you good luck.” But she definitely did not come pick me up.
I was pissed that Miss B wouldn’t let me try her Sprite Ice Cream, and have spent hours and hours scouring Pinterest for “Sprite ice cream in a cup” recipes to no avail.
Have you ever made sprite ice cream in a cup?