When the snow reached my knees or better,
I'd get out the big, green bowl
and make snow ice cream.
I was twelve and unsupervised,
and I had few inklings
and even fewer concerns about food safety,
but I knew what I liked -
two raw eggs dropped in a bowl of snow,
a dash of vanilla and a slug of milk,
sugar, and more sugar
all stirred together into a sweet, sticky, salmonella slush
and popped into the freezer
to ferment and fester to a creamy concrete.
Oh, it was like eating pure, unprocessed heaven!
And, it's a damn wonder food poisoning didn't send me directly there.
But, deadly as it sounds,
I didn't even come close to dying that snowy winter
despite being twelve,
and doing exactly as I liked.
For Open Link Night at dVerse