Saturday, June 9, 2007

Ice Cream Man!

Today reminds me of the last time the ice cream man came by our house. It was a sunny, sticky Saturday, and I was doing laundry, just like today. Teen Angel was three or fours years old. I had my head in the dryer when Hubby banged on the back door and hollered for me to come quickly. He has an annoying habit of doing this, and always makes it sound as if he has an emergency. It rarely means there is an emergency (except for the day he fell off a ladder) so I took my time. By the time I got there, he was worked up in a lather. "Tell me what you hear", he said. "Music, maybe? Is Mr. R. playing his luau records outside again?" "No. I think it's an ice cream truck." "Really?! Are you sure?" We squinted and searched the horizon and sure enough, his van was toodling into our subdivision. "Oh, my God. It's the ice cream man!!!"

Now, you have to understand, we hadn't seen an ice cream man in our subdivision in several years. Also, I grew up in the boondocks, so the only time I saw the ice cream man when I was a kid was when he happened to drive by grandma's house while I was visiting her. That happened maybe twice. So, on that sunny June day that Hubby beckoned me to the door, I was in the middle of a 20 year ice cream man drought. I may have been more than 30 years old, but the appearance of Mr. Frosty's little white truck rolling through our subdivision turned me into a kid all over again.

"Get some money, and I'll get the girl!", I shouted. I scooped up Teen Angel and hit the door. "What's wrong, mommy?" "Nothing, baby. It's the ice cream man. It's a good thing." As I hit the door, Hubby tossed me some dollar bills from the tool box money jar he thinks I don't know about. I put Teen Angel on the ground, grabbed her hand and started running across the yard. Mr. Frosty was already past our house. "Hurry up", I hollered. "We're going to miss him!" I practically dragged Teen Angel for two blocks. We cut through Mr. R's yard, jumping his peony bushes. He didn't care. He understand that it was an emergency. He was watching from his front porch. We were barefoot, and her little legs were moving as fast as they could across thick grass and hot concrete. We finally flagged down the truck and excitedly surveyed our choices. We settled on an orange push-up for me and Nutty Buddies for Teen Angel and Hubby. When Hubby was a kid, he would catch the truck on one side of the subdivion, buy some ice cream and then run to the other side of the subdivision for a second purchase as the truck left. I didn't think Teen Angel's legs would hold out for that, so we headed straight back to the house. We plopped down in the swing where Hubby was waiting for us and started savoring our goodies. As I sat there watching my two favorite people eat their ice cream, I thought to myself, this is the good life. And I realized that for once it really was an emergency when Hubby hollered at me to come to the back door.

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