I must have been about 5 years old when I threw a fit at the grocery store for chocolate ice cream. My mother firmly told me no. We had ice cream at home, and she was not going to buy any more ice cream until it was finished.
I was determined to get my way. When my mother wasn’t looking, I dragged a kitchen chair over to the refrigerator so I could reach the freezer door on top. I pulled out the ice cream. It was strawberry ice cream. It was a half-gallon box. It was almost full. I ate the ice cream. All of it. In one sitting.
Waste not the strawberry ice cream; never ever want it again.