Welcome to the KingZoo and Funny Farm, where we learn to live, laugh, and love together. Here you'll find snippets of life in our zoo, parenting tips we've learned along the way, reflections on shining God's light in this world, passions in the realm of orphan care, and our journey as parents of a visually impaired child with sensory processing disorder. Have fun!

Tuesday, January 11, 2011


At church on Sunday, a friend told me that my comment on his blog earlier in the week was his 100th blog comment. I, of course, wanted to know what I had won. Nothing.

Well, you can't blame me for asking. I have been known to win wonderful things at Wendy's, just for being the 100th customer of the day. It works like this:

Every year during the month of October, we take advantage of the Frosty's coupons. These coupon booklets can be bought for only $1 and each contains 10 free Jr. Frosty coupons. So we buy 10 booklets. 10 booklets for $10 gives us 100 Frosty's during the months of Nov., Dec., and Jan. before they expire. It doesn't matter to us that they're supposed to be handed out to Trick or Treaters. Who would give out ice cream when you can keep it for yourself?

Problem is, I'm not really into Frosty's. First of all, they originally only came in chocolate. I don't like chocolate. I never understood the point of developing a dairy treat that only comes in chocolate. It always seemed to me to be a personal affront by the folks at Wendy's. Second of all, the worst car accident I was ever involved in occurred because of one of those chocolate Frosty's. My friend and I were on our way to Bethany Birches Camp in Vermont to serve as junior counselors for the summer. We were being driven by the camp's summer director. He had just bought his first brand new car and was very proud of it. We stopped for lunch at a Wendy's in Schenectady, New York, and were second in line at a stop light. Dave had bought a large Frosty which I was trying to put in the cup holder for him but it was spilling out. I said, "Eww, yuck," and Dave looked down to see what was happening. Out of the corner of his eye he thought that traffic had started to move so at the same time he pressed on the gas. Only the traffic hadn't moved. His car was totaled but we were all fine, except for chocolate Frosty all over everything. Third, I'm not a vanilla person. At least not with my ice cream. I may be pretty bland in the rest of life, but don't offer me vanilla ice cream unless you have some pretty good toppings with which to douse the blandness. And finally, have you seen how small a Jr. Frosty really is? It's not worth the energy it takes to move the spoon from cup to mouth.

So I don't like Frosty's but the rest of my family loves the fact that for 3 months out of the year John is forever asking, "Anyone want a Frosty?" "Who wants to ride with Dad to the grocery store? We'll get Frosty's on the way home." "Dad's driving us to dance? Great, he always stops at Wendy's on the way home."

Okay, I didn't want to be left out yet I didn't want to eat plain old bland vanilla cream. So I came up with a plan. I, too, would treat the kids to Frosty's on the way home from dance. Only I wouldn't eat mine on the way home; I'd wait until we got home. Then I would take a few Reese's Peanut Butter Cups out of my secret stash in the freezer, chop them up, swirl them in and voila! - the closest thing to a Dairy Queen Blizzard that you can create in your own home.

I just didn't expect Andrew to walk through at that moment. He questioned the brown stuff in my vanilla Frosty. Thinking fast I just told him the truth - that I had been the 100th customer at Wendy's so I got to pick a free mix-in.

It's amazing how many times I've arrived at Wendy's just in time to be the 100th customer.

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