When I look at people, I don't see them. Instead, I see ice cream. Everybody has their own flavor. Some people are very vanilla, like my mom. She doesn’t try to be unique, but instead, just wants to fit in.

My dad, on the other hand, is a little of this and a little of that. He’s a giant ice cream sundae with every flavor and topping. My little brother is salted caramel toffee. He’s very sweet on the outside, but once you bite down, you get a kick of salt.

Grandma Lizzy’s a big scoop of deep dish apple pie. She’s warm and happy, always there to grab you in a big hug and swallow you whole.

Some people would say my personality's like Moose Tracks ice cream. You see, I want to fit in with the crowd, or “be a little vanilla”. I appreciate people’s similarities, but I also want to add a little dash of “me” in there, with a ripple of fudge. And, finally, I have some mean spots, hard little chocolate shells, but once you break through, you encounter the sweet, caring peanut butter inside.