OMG. Riley has been screaming for the Ice Cream Truck ever since she first heard the jingle and I told her what it was... months ago. Maybe even last summer. And he never comes on a regular schedule, so we never know when to be ready, and he passes by so quickly that we always miss him.
Tonite, we were lucky enough that he came when Russell was home (now that I think about it, it was after dinner, after bath, and minutes before bed, at 8:15, but who cares... it's the ICE CREAM TRUCK!!!). Uh, wait, what kind of ice cream truck comes by at 8:15?? Read on for my opinion...
Riley perked up and screamed her usual, "Ice Cweem Twuuuuuuuck!!" So I ran for the $$$, daddy ran for the robe, and out the door we went!! I caught the (blue van with a cutout window in the side???... apparently a European import...) just as he was about to pass our corner, and ran outside to browse the choices. Way too many choices these days, including silly Dora bars, and Bratz bars, and Spongebob bars, which, I'm sure, all taste like hell, much like those theme bars I remember buying as a kid, and then regretting it. I specifically remember a PacMan bar that really was just a bunch of yellow wax covering some mediocre-at-best white ice cream. I wouldn't even have called it vanilla. Even as a 12 year old! Yuck. Why can't I find a photo of this monstrosity anywhere? Can't imagine. But I digress...
Daddy and the naked-plus-robe-minus-diaper-and-shivering-just-out-of-the-bath-baby ran out to save the day, and make the choice for me. Thank God! He let Riley point at her choice, but she randomly chose a slushie, that we both knew she really had no interest in, since she was holding her finger out aimlessly while staring at the Muslim lady (who spoke no English and kept asking her husband/driver to translate) waiting for her order. Daddy made the wise choice to go for the King Cone. Later, as she devoured the thing, I enlightened her (and daddy) to the fact that the King Cone was Papa's favorite, and he would eat ten of them at one sitting (that's actually only half a joke). Her eyes got bigger than they already are, and oooohed, 'wow, ten!'. Here is some fun viewing pleasure for you, just to prove that she is, without a doubt, her papa's gal!
I want the old man in the white box truck, from my childhood, who would normally play a well-known melody, serving ice cream to my little Riley-Belle. Now, tell me that doesn't take you back... Where are those old geezers?

Not quite so sure about supporting this new breed of Ice Cream Truck, who turned off the music as he arrived, because people apparently complain about it (huh? who are these grumps in my neighborhood? no, actually, I don't even want to know)... Listen, I have wonderful memories of the ice cream man, and so does Russell, and we're not going to ruin it by these new-fangled substitues. Life goes on, and Riley enjoyed it, and it's what we have. Hmm?







