Ice Cream Hangover

Yesterday started out like any normal day. I was with Michael and we were trying to figure out what to do during day 2 of the break.

Ben and Jerry's was giving out free cones of ice cream, and we decided to just go for one. One little cone of ice cream has never hurt anyone, right? But here's the thing with free ice cream. You can't just have one.

We took the underground to Bond St, where we then walked 10 minutes to the nearest Ben and Jerry's. By this time, we were achin' for some delicious ice cream. The line was long, but not too long- maybe 15 minutes of wait. Michael and I anxiously discussed what flavor to get, and immediately second guessed our decision once we saw all the chocolatey, creamy, decadent choices.

As we are eating our treat (me- Smores, him- Peanut Butter Cup) we start discussing about the possibility of just having one more tiny little scoop of ice cream. We decide that if the next Ben and Jerry's is less than a 20 minute walk away, we'll do it. Can't pass up free ice cream!

And so our Ben and Jerry's Crawl around London begins.

The walk is 33 minutes long, but like an alcoholic to just one more beer, we are both in desperate need of another cone. Honestly, we probably would have walked even further if need be. And the walk sobered us up a bit, making us ready for the next cone.

We arrive to the next Ben and Jerry's, and this is where things start to get blurry.

It is in a square with 3 other Ben and Jerry's.

We meet my pregnant friend Erica there. She's that friend that causes you to get more ice cream drunk than you normally would. Terrible influence.

In line for our second round of cones, we meet a girl who is one ice cream # 5. She's slurring her words when describing the best flavors, she's so ice cream wasted. This makes us feel better about our decision. It's normal to have 2 ice creams, right? This girl clearly has a problem, but we don't.

We have our second round of cones (me- Phish Food and him- Smores).

Erica says "Just one more. This'll be the last one."

We get in line for our third one.

I can barely even taste my strawberry cheesecake. The sugar has rushed to my head, and I am losing consciousness.

I drop my ice cream. I contemplate still eating it, but after seeing a hair stuck to the sticky goodness, I realize I have a problem and need to stop. But I don't. I just cut of the bit that hit the ground, and keep eating.

Honestly, I don't even know how we made it home after this, but we somehow did.

We came home and laid on the couch, moaning that our stomachs hurt and we just need to sleep it off.

I woke up today feeling awful. And I will never have a lick of ice cream again. Or at least for the next few days. I'm detoxing.