Presentation is everything. OK, so it’s at least something.
I like to make a big deal out of small things.
Mom was away and it was weekend. Just the boys. We even watched football (very manly). It wasn’t too late and the boys wanted ice cream. My 8-year old would just as soon eat out of the tub with his fingers. He’d probably just lick it all out and skip even the fingers. My oldest would skip the ice cream altogether and pour the chocolate into his mouth until:
- It was empty.
- He started laughing.
- His brother (possibly) started using something of his and distracted him.
Maybe it’s the chef in me. Maybe it’s the restaurant owner in me. Maybe it’s the Swedish designer in me where every little thing is “designed.” You can’t just have a bowl of ice cream, you need to find three (small) matching glasses (also to make them almost overflowing with ice cream while not overdosing my kids so late in the evening), use under-sized dessert spoons, allow space between scoops in the glass so the chocolate runs down the sides and oozes into all available nooks and crannies (see note above about Making It Look Like It’s Full), then putting them up in front of colored lights to give it the full I Must Have That Ice Cream Now Even More than I Thought I Wanted It Before effect.
Even my 11-year old was impressed.
“Mooi gedaan, Pop,” said my 11-year old. He didn’t whip out his calligraphy pen and write up an award on parchment paper or anything.* But he commented on the beauty of the scene. That was huge. He’s a stylin’ kind of guy. He actually cares what he wears (unlike 8-year-old-give-me-sweat-pants-or-give-me-death son) and asks opinions about his style choices. But no, it was still a compliment. I’m not sure there was a breath in between the comment and the hand reaching to the glass and fingers wrapping around the spoon and chocolate landing on his lips, but hey, I’m not here for fanfare, I’m here for ice cream, right?
* As if had even knew what a calligraphy pen was or we had parchment paper.
It’s all about the presentation. Or at least, it’s partly about that. It’s partly about the ice cream on a weekend night home alone with the boys.