Is there anything more quintessentially summer than an ice cream truck? And this time, I didn’t tell the mini-ions that when you hear the song, the truck is empty!
Where I lived until I was 15, in northwestern PA, they didn’t have ice cream trucks, so I didn’t know about the phenomenon until we moved to Connecticut. I still remember the first time I heard the song and I looked quizzically at my parents, and they both laughed and told me what it was. Even not knowing what it contained, I was drawn to it. And so are the mini-ions. So, really, for their protection so they don’t go running in the street, I tell them when they hear the song the truck is empty.
This time the truck was parked. I encouraged Dear Husband to go take the mini-ions to some shade and I stood in the long, hot line, deliberately punishing myself for the times I had lied to the children for my own convenience. I didn’t let them see the selections so they weren’t choosing cartoon characters over flavors. They happily enjoyed their vanilla soft serve with sprinkles while we giggled and smiled together as a family. That’s the summers are supposed to be, right?