We all scream for ice cream!!

D was out shooting hoops when I hear a twinkling song coming from down the street. Being that D is three and Little L is two, I was the only one that knew what the magic song meant. So I make a mad dash for some cash and we catch up to the truck. D an Little L are following behind me yelling “mommy! Where are we going? What are we doing? Where is the music coming from??”

We catch up to the nice friendly man in the brand new van decked out as an ice cream truck. They make their selections based on a sticker on the side of the truck and we settle in to enjoy our treats. My excitement was mildly squashed when a neighbor lady told me she “told that man to move on and not come back because there’s no soliciting around here. Besides, I don’t even know if he has a food license and I don’t want that music playing outside my house…” Bummer. I wonder if she sings the same tune when it’s time for Girl Scout cookies? I guess we will see next February!!

We walk on and eat the last of the popsicles. Well, D and I do while Little L is letting hers turn to mush. Next thing I know, she is crying a cry worthy of the Deathly Hallows. What happened? Yep…you guessed it. Her $2 popsicle fell off the stick and onto the ground. She was devastated. Crying over spilt milk. Or a melted Shrek popsicle. She was so saddened. She tried to pick it up but it ran through her fingers. She squatted next to it (that cute little way that toddlers squat) and cries her eyes out. I promised to buy her another popsicle another day. Albeit not from the ice cream truck 😦 She finally said goodbye to the Shrek popsicle with gimbal eyes and we walked on down the street.

Our first time was special because its our first and also our last. Shrek…we will remember you as the tasty treat you were for such a brief time.



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