The Ice Cream Ritual
I don’t know about you, but sometimes we need some certainty in life, sometimes that needs to be a little sweet.
For me, it’s ice cream. Mint choc chip, to be exact.
The funny thing is, I almost never have ice cream in the freezer. You’d think someone who loves mint choc chip as much as I do would always keep a tub tucked away for emergencies, but I don’t. In fact, I quite deliberately never buy it with the groceries.
If it was sitting in my freezer every day, it would lose a little of its magic.
Instead, whenever the craving arrives, there’s only one solution.
A trip to Baskin-Robbins.
It’s become a little ritual over the years. Every now and then, usually after dinner, I’ll suddenly think, “You know what? Mint choc chip sounds like a really good idea.”
That’s all the excuse I need.
I grab my keys, jump in the car and head to my local Baskin-Robbins. It’s only a short drive, but somehow it feels like a tiny adventure rather than an errand. There’s no shopping list, no rushing through the supermarket wondering whether I need milk or bread. Just one very important mission.
As soon as I walk through the door, everything feels wonderfully familiar. Families are trying to convince children that one scoop is plenty. Teenagers are taking forever to decide between thirty-one flavours. Someone is asking for yet another sample while I’m quietly smiling to myself because my decision was made years ago.
I still glance across all the flavours, almost out of politeness. Every now and then I wonder whether I should try something different.
Then I order mint choc chip anyway.
Every single time.
The Day They Ran Out – Where was the certainty
Then one evening, everything changed.
I walked into Baskin-Robbins, glanced towards the familiar row of flavours and immediately knew something wasn’t right.
There was no mint choc chip.
I looked again.
Surely they’d just moved it.
Maybe it was hiding behind another tub.
Nope.
Gone.
Now, I realise there are much bigger problems in the world than a missing ice cream flavour, but I have to admit I felt surprisingly disappointed. I’d driven there expecting my little ritual to unfold exactly as it always had, and suddenly the script had changed.
The young girl behind the counter smiled apologetically.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “We’ve sold out.”
Sold out?
How does Baskin-Robbins run out of mint choc chip?
So there I stood, staring through the glass cabinet far longer than any sensible person should. There were dozens of other flavours, yet somehow none of them looked quite right.
I considered chocolate. Cookies and cream. Something with caramel. Another one covered in chocolate pieces that looked very impressive.
Eventually, after what felt like an embarrassingly long time, I pointed to one and hoped for the best.
It was perfectly nice.
But if I’m being honest… it wasn’t mint choc chip.
More Than Just Ice Cream
You know, for a split second, I almost turned around and walked out.
I actually stood there wondering whether it was worth buying an ice cream I didn’t really want. Which, when you think about it, is completely ridiculous. I’d driven all the way to Baskin-Robbins, found a park, patiently waited my turn and was now considering leaving empty-handed because they’d run out of one flavour.
I had to laugh at myself.
Imagine trying to explain that to someone.
“So, did you get your ice cream?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“They’d run out of mint choc chip.”
It sounds absurd when you say it out loud.
More Than Just a Flavour, its certainty
But I’ve been thinking about that little moment ever since, because I don’t think I was disappointed about the flavour itself. There were another thirty-odd tubs of perfectly good ice cream sitting right there in front of me.
I think I was disappointed because, for the first time in years, I had to stop and make a decision I’d forgotten I was making.
Every visit had become wonderfully predictable. Walk in. Order mint choc chip. Smile. Head home. It was certainty!
There was something strangely comforting about that.
Have you noticed how many little routines we all have?
The favourite mug that somehow makes coffee taste better.
The walking track we always choose.
The chair we automatically sit in.
The café where they already know our order before we’ve even opened the menu.
I read something fascinating recently that suggested our brains naturally like familiarity. Apparently, when something is predictable, it requires less mental effort, which leaves us feeling a little calmer without us even realising why.
Perhaps that’s why those tiny rituals become so important.
They’re never really about the mug.
Or the café.
Or even the mint choc chip.
They’re little pockets of familiarity tucked inside lives that are often busy, noisy and wonderfully unpredictable. Its the certainty that for one minute we don’t need to think or make a decision.
And perhaps that’s why I still smile every time I walk into Baskin-Robbins and see that familiar green tub waiting for me.
It’s never really been about the ice cream.
It’s simply become one of those ordinary little moments that quietly reminds me that sometimes, in a world that’s constantly changing, it’s rather lovely to have a few things that stay exactly the same.
