My Bear snorts, all self-righteous.
Mouse indeed.
I laugh.
Because he’s funny.
And sweet for an old guy.
“Look, I really do appreciate the confidence—Uncle Uzzi, was it?” I say, leaning my hip against the counter and crossing my arms. “But I think I’m gonna stick with ice cream.”
Because ice cream?
Ice cream has never broken my heart.
Ice cream has never cheated on me.
Ice cream has never told me I should try harder to be someone else.
Uncle Uzzi sighs like I just told him I kicked a puppy.
“Well,” he says, all dramatic disappointment, “you cannot say I did not try.”
I grin.
“Oh, I absolutely will say that. Loudly. Probably to my employees. Might even put it on a T-shirt.”
He gasps, clutching his chest.
“Cruel, Liebling. Very cruel.”
“Accurate,” I shoot back.
But he’s already recovering, because of course he is.
He slides his phone back into his pocket like this entire conversation hasn’t been mildly unhinged.
“Just remember,” he says, wagging a finger at me, “sometimes love arrives when we least expect it.”
“Pretty sure love doesn’t come with a download link,” I mutter.
He just smiles.
And then—because this man is clearly committed to the bit—he orders a third Honey Lavender cone.
“With sprinkles,” he adds, like that’s a critical detail.
“Bold choice,” I tell him as I hand it over.
“Life is about risks,” he says solemnly… before immediately taking the most dramatic, over-the-top bite I’ve ever seen.
I laugh.
I can’t help it.
He eats the whole thing like it’s a performance, humming happily, eyes closing like he’s having a religious experience.
“Okay,” I say, shaking my head. “You’re either a genius or completely unhinged.”
