On one of my first dates with Len, he asked what I wanted for dinner. The usual dating response, “Whatever you want,” I replied. “Ok,” he said. “Let’s have ice cream.”

From that point on, I knew I could never compete for his heart with his love for ice cream and win. Not just any ice cream, it had to be vanilla. Not the kind with artificial this and that, but the kind loaded with milk fat and whole cream, and tastes like a thousand beats of a whisk, all by hand. Every now and then, he’ll grab a half-gallon and eat the entire tub. I watch, smile and remember that, in fact, I did win.

Today, he’s sharing that love with his granddaughter, Caitlin, in an ice cream shop in Enniskillen, UK.. He got one scoop of cookies and cream; she, two of vanilla with tons of toppings like crunchies. With the crunchies ending up on the bottom of the cup, it was a digging competition to make sure every bite contained the goodies. Len asked for a taste; she gave him only one. The true character of an ice cream aficionado. You only share one bite.

There’s no denying it now; they will forever be joined, if by nothing else than by their love of ice cream.