My husband: When I was a kid we used to have ice cream cake every Saturday.
I haven’t eaten cake for a very long time, but my husband is well aware of my previous love for cake, especially ice cream cake.
Me: What kind of fantasy world did you grow up in? We only had ice cream cake on someone’s birthday and even then it wasn’t guaranteed. When we did have it one of my parents would always mention how expensive it was while we were eating it.
My husband: We had ice cream every night after dinner too.
Me: Every night, weren’t you living the good life? Don’t ever tell me your family didn’t have much money when you grew up again.
My husband: I owned the same two shirts for three year running. Those were the only shirts I had. They had buttons missing.
Me: Who cares? What kid cares about new shirts. Kids want ice cream.
When I was a kid if someone gave me the choice between a new shirt and ice cream, I’d have wanted the ice especially if it were vanilla, unless it was in cake form, then it didn’t matter what flavor it was. (I think that was a run-on sentence, but I don’t want to correct it.)