Let me just say that when the ice cream man purposefully stops in your driveway, knows you by name and tells you he missed you last week when you were out of town it could be indicator of an ice cream addiction. OH, and when you keep a stash of dollar bills in the cup holder on the golf cart in case by some odd chance you miss the ice cream man and need to chase him down, you might be an ice cream addict. But if all it takes to bring that much pleasure to my peeps, then he can park that little truck at the end of my driveway any day. Just as long as he has a few strawberry Scooter Crunch Bars in there.
2 comments:
Now I have to go and find an icecream truck...mmmmmm.
I remember the days of the ice cream truck when I lived in Baltimore as a young girl. When we moved to the country, there was no more ice cream truck. It will always be a fond memory. I can still hear the ding-a-ling-a-ling!
BTW, I always got the push-up!
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