Inherited Tastes

After dinner last night, my dad triumphantly produced a tub of Crunchy Lemon sorbet for dessert. Chickadee was dubious, but happily finished her cone once she was assured the crunchy bits were candy, not something nutritious. MonkeyBoy hoovered down one cone and asked for a second (which Grandpa, naturally, provided). I restrained myself and only had one bowlful, but could easily have polished off the entire tub.

My mother likes vanilla. If she's feeling really daring, she'll top it off with a little chocolate syrup. She would never have bought Crunchy Lemon, even if the kids had been on hand to persuade her. But it's the kind of thing my dad buys if she lets him go to the store by himself.

I used to love it when dad got to do the grocery shopping. Mom didn't often let him, with good reason. She could send him out with a carefully drafted list, and he'd come back with red licorice, Jiffy-Pop, root beer and salt-n-vinegar chips but no butter, milk or laundry soap. Himself, for the record, is a much more reliable acquirer of provisions than my father. I'm the bad one. I do buy what's on the list (it's usually my list, after all) but always come home with 10% more junk food than planned. And I'll definitely be on the lookout for Crunchy Lemon from now on.

An incomplete list of other things my dad and I like:
- licorice allsorts
- Werthers
- lemon meringue pie
- Tootsie Rolls
- very old cheddar
- olives stuffed with garlic
- Double Bubble (for the first 45 seconds, until the flavour fades)
- crackling
- tomato juice with a dash of hot sauce
- walnuts in the shell
- Hill Street Blues
- Connie Willis' Bellwether
- Monty Python
- beachcombing
- walking in the woods
- spite & malice
- backgammon
- cribbage
- hearts
- fresh peas in the pod
- green apples
- catching frogs
- going fast in his boat
- rock collecting
- talking about nothing in particular