I never liked ice cream. My uncles used to ask me when I was young, “what kind of kid are you? How can you not like ice cream?” But I didn’t. I did, however, like sherbet. I still do.

The other day, I was feeding my son orange sherbet and I was overtaken by a memory of Ma Mildred, a dear woman who was like a grandmother to me, eating orange sherbet with me before bed. It was such a delicious way to end the evening. I used to take mine in an light colored orange mug. I don’t remember her choice. But we would eat and talk, then I would dress for bed and she would wash, dry, and put away the dishes.

My grandfather used to also take his dessert before bed instead of directly after dinner. I think I prefer my dessert this way as well. I am usually too full immediately following dinner so a bedtime snack is nice. Sometimes my grandparents enjoyed butter pecan ice cream or my grandfather would have a piece of the precious black walnut candy that he would stash in his dresser. Even though he had “hidden” it, he would always offer some. It wasn’t always black walnut, but it was always chocolate.

Chocolate is now the treat that I give my son for his potty training successes but orange sherbet is the bedtime treat. We don’t yet have a light orange mug for him, but he doesn’t complain.

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