The Ice Cream Man Cometh
It's 5:00pm. I'm winding down at the couch after working out and that's when I hear it...
The sugary sweet electronic piped song from a loud speaker. The song is familiar but ultimately irrelevant. It sounds like the Ice Cream Man!
I run over to the window to take a look. I can't see the truck. The leaves from the trees have thickened out, blocking my view. However, I still hear that sweet music, playing in a loop. There's no doubt. It is the Ice Cream Man!
Mentally, I'm checking to see if I have any change. Nope. Only 45 cents. Not enough. Ice cream is expensive nowadays. Is there any change in the couch?
Then, I stop myself. Wait a minute. Why am I sweating this? I'm reacting like I did when I was eight, when I was rushing to get money to buy a Bigfoot Popsicle. I feel I little foolish and a little nostalgic at the same time.
"I can buy a whole box of Popsicles or Push-Ups for the price the Ice Cream man would charge for two", I whimper to myself (still wishing I had enough pocket change).
Is the magnetic pull of the Ice Cream man song that powerful? Or is it just the memories of a simpler time?
Comments
Thankfully, we live in a neighborhood that also has a paletas vendor. Paletas are the Mexican versions of popsicles; usually fruit-flavored. They sell for about a buck, so my daughter has an easier time scraping together a little money of her own, instead of begging us for cash.
I remember Bigfoot popsicles. They were awesome.
My kids are growing up in a different time than I did. The role of the ice cream man seems to be diminishing, unfortunately.
I told her she'd have to keep saving her pennies.