500 Cups of Ice Cream
Some people say they have bits of verse or TV jingles that have stayed with them all their adult lives.
When I was a small child I spent two summers in Italy on archaeological digs with my parents at the Tuscan fortified farmhouse of Spinocchia, in the foothills between Sienna and Florence. Yes, I was too young to learn any Italian … except I could say, for some bizarre reason, cinquecento coppa creama, grazie ("500 cups of ice cream, thanks" — yes?) This phrase has stayed with me for the last twenty-five odd years.
Not that I have ever used this phrase that often.
All I can assume is the brain works in some mighty strange ways.