Ice Cream Man

So we have an ice cream truck that comes through our neighborhood every afternoon. I smile every time I hear the music rolling down the street. It reminds me of our ice cream truck in Virginia that sold both over-priced ice cream and garbage-pail kids. Somehow I always seemed to have money for the latter.

I've never actually seen Wenatchee's ice cream truck - not until today that is. When I heard it coming I sauntered over to the window. But by sauntering I missed my opportunity. This was no casual ice cream truck. Thankfully we live on a corner and the truck was turning to pass our house yet again. So I raced over to the other window to see this truck going at least 50 miles an hour (I think we're in a 25 miles an hour zone). Okay, so it might not have been going that fast, but it was definitely booking it down the street. Fast enough that the poor neighborhood children would hear the ice-cream desire-inducing music only to run outside to eat the truck's dust. Sad. Very sad.

Okay, can I confess something? This is all true but I thought of that last sentence and thought it was "so clever" that I had to write an entire post around it. That might be even more sad.