Today is National Chocolate Ice Cream Day, and had I bothered to check earlier, I would have procured some, raising a spoonful in recognition. Those of you who know my mama may be thinking there is no way I’m my mother’s daughter if I don’t have chocolate ice cream on hand at all times. The story goes that the night before I was born, Mamacita had a bowl of vanilla ice cream with Hershey’s chocolate syrup and peanuts—a Mamacita standard issue dessert every night of the week when I was growing up. When I started pushing to get out of the womb, she thought it was indigestion from the ice cream. No, it was me, ready to make my grand entrance (although one could argue that I became at least 18 years of indigestion for her).

If I didn’t have to watch my blood sugar and dairy, my freezer would be full of ice cream. Sometimes it feels like there is no mercy in the world. Unfortunately, Mamacita also didn’t have any ice cream today because she’s been suffering from what the British call a “dickey tummy” (a.k.a., not feeling right in the gut). She remains in good spirits despite that and is seeing the doctor tomorrow. And, she hopes, will be put right enough to be able to eat ice cream.

The only exercise I got today was riding my knee scooter to Walgreens to get a selection of bandages for Hubby. Cicada casualties are stacking up everywhere on sidewalks and streets. I try to avoid running over them, dead or alive, but it can’t be helped sometimes. Hubby continues to hobble, following the wart drilling on Saturday. This man has a dozen boxes of various sorts open at any given time; he suffers from Goldilocks syndrome (still in search of the perfect one that won’t fall off). My little scooter basket was full, owing to bottles of bubble bath that Hubby also requires, and it was on sale. Here’s a stock tip: buy shares in Dr. Teal’s bubble bath and Epsom salts, as well as any brand of adhesive bandages, and working man’s socks and work boots—oh, and running shoes. Our household carries the market in these commodities.

The guys raced to finish the upstairs bathroom today before our tenant returned after being on vacation last week. In their haste, they miscut the glass door for the shower, so they have to come back and fix that plus finish a few other details. They didn’t half make a mess of the walls, but they did their best to clean up. No one will ever measure up to Snyder Clean, alas. Thankfully our tenant is fine with the unfinished state as long he has a functioning shower, sink, and toilet. Speaking of the latter, we installed a bidet seat at his request. It looks a little high tech for me, but we’ll have to eventually get used to the idea because we’re getting the full-on Toto deal later this year in our bathroom. Our tenant claims it’s easy to use, but he’ll have to give us demo (that should be interesting). It has a heated seat along with a wash and dry mode. We got a thumbs up from him.

Tonight I tried that boot-style ice pack from Relief Expert. Thumbs up from me. Let’s hear it for warm bums and cold feet.