Sunday, July 22, 2012

Ice Cream Man

I like to think of the ice cream man as a sweet old man wearing a striped shirt and one of those boat-shaped paper hats riding around in a little vintage ice cream truck that plays nursery tunes. But, alas, ours is a middle-aged man who drives an early 1980's hand-painted van that plays Christmas carols (Jingle Bells, to be exact).
Being around the corner from the middle school he cruises up and down the street almost daily September through June, but wouldn't you know we have not so much as heard a note since school let out mid-June? Yesterday was one of the first truly hot days since summer began and as soon as we heard him enter the tract the four of us ran outside to flag him down. We were too late which meant that Anderson and I had to run after him. Literally. We took off down the street faster than I have run in probably 5 years this was for ice cream, after all! and kept going. Around the corner, down the next street, around the next corner and there he was. We flagged him down (Anderson was now riding piggy-back and my legs were about to give out) and Anderson kept waving and yelling "ice cream man, that way! our house is that way! turn! turn!". At this point I was about to pass out from over-exertion but thankfully Anderson wanted down so he could run home as fast as he could to the waiting truck, er van. Phewww. Needless to say we all indulged and made a huge sticky mess while sitting in the welcome heat.
Anderson's first door-to-door ice cream experience was a total success, albeit an adventurous one. It even ended with a wash-down in the sprinklers, just as it should. Oh, and so as not to have to accidentally engage in exercise the next time, I did inform the ice cream man that if he promised to make the trip down our dead-end street that we promised to always indulge. A win-win I would say.
 It was such a tough choice for Anderson, but he decided on this rainbow sno-cone after finding out they were all out of the pink Italian ice he wanted. I'm not so sure he was super thrilled with his decision as he ate half of my popsicle as well. In his defense, it pretty much just tasted like an ice cube. Live and learn.
 Oh, Baby Beck. You are such a ragamuffin. Seriously. So, so messy. And that hair! Poor thing.
 Baby Beck looks a bit like a satiated vampire. Oh my.

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