Haagen Heaven

This may sound a bit sacrilegious but eating Haagen Dazs ice cream bars is a spiritual experience for me. When I need a hiatus from the hustle – mothering, working, cooking, cleaning, laundering, etc. I drive myself to the gas station, as unassuming as it may seem, and pick out an almond and milk chocolate bar. 

It’s so rich and indulgent. I usually don’t make the 1-mile drive back to my house. I crack open that box and inner wrapper before I’m even out of the QuickTrip parking lot.

Then, gingerly I bite into the milk chocolate shell. I must be delicate because a forceful bite might crumble the coating and corrupt the experience. This needs to be savored, slowly. With that said, it shouldn’t be surprising that I’m still working on it when I pull into my driveway. I sit in the car, this is too euphoric to interrupt by going inside. There is a 2-year-old and a husband in there, who will either expect me to share, or disturb my peace by talking to me. 

I can wait. 

I sit in the car. 

Alone. 

Nibbling.

The windows are rolled down, the engine is off and the seat is reclined. I’m elated and the breeze wafts through the car. The family doesn’t even know I’m home, because deliberately I haven’t opened the garage door. This is my time. Honestly, I’m not home. I’m enjoying a little piece of heaven.