Ice Cream

Here’s another story about my New Mexico friend, Louis Rice.

As a young man – a very young man, maybe 16 or 17 years old – Lou worked in a place that made ice cream. His job was to take big sheets of vanilla ice cream and cut it into squares for ice cream sandwiches.

It was a tiring, repetitive task. The day wore on. His right hand ached from all that slicing and slicing. So he started cutting the ice cream with his left hand.

His boss came by and said, “I see that you are ambidextrous.”

“No,” said Lou. “I’m Catholic.”