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an ice cream tradition

my making ice cream for birthdays is becoming something of a tradition with a highly predictable set of events:

• i pull out the machine and dump in all the ingredients (i avoid any recipe that calls for cooking the mixture).
• i set the motor on top and plug it in. nothing moves.
• i freak out that the machine is broken and its a horrid garage sale purchase that screwed us out of a good five dollars.
• b pushes me out of the way and launches into a lecture about lining up the outtie with the innie.
• an argument ensues between b, my brother, and myself about whether the spatula thingy inside is supposed to move inside the tub, or if the tub is supposed to move around the spatula thingy.
• b declares that the hole in the plastic knob on top of the lid is too small and whips out his knife to shave off 1/128th of an inch from the diameter.
• b and my brother declare that it is working, and leave me to add the perfect combination of ice and rock salt.
• we stand around the machine waiting for it to finish while drool hardens on our chins.

also, while heavy whipping cream is not the same thing as heavy cream, it makes for a super-rich substitute in mint ice cream. i couldnt even finish my bowl. in moderation, young grasshopper.