When I was little, I heard about ice cream trucks. I suppose I read about them in the many books I read.
But I didn't think they were real. I put them in the same category as Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny. People told stories about them and hoped they would bring them some nice treats, but in actuality the only way you got ice cream was for your mother and father to go to the store and buy some.
I guess the ice cream truck man didn't figure trailer park kids had any money for ice cream.
After we moved out of the trailer park, I wouldn't consider the places we lived "country," but they weren't exactly urban either. They were distant enough from any towns of any size that we didn't have ice cream trucks. Or pizza delivery. Or cable t.v. Maybe it WAS the country and I didn't know it. There were cows across the road, come to think of it. But road was paved! Doesn't living in the country require a dirt road?
The first time I actually saw an ice cream truck for myself, I was living with Nurse Jane in an apartment complex in a suburb of Dallas, Texas. The ice cream truck came through the neighborhood, and I stood there with my mouth agape. It was as if Santa had come chugging down our chimney. I'm pretty sure I didn't have any money on me at that time, and by the time I came to my senses, the truck was probably gone. But I'd be willing to bet that next time he came through our complex, I was ready.
I was outside this afternoon, brushing leaves off the pool cover in preparation for opening the pool. I DID NOT HINT! Okay, maybe when I came in and said to Hubby, "The leaves are off the pool cover," some people MIGHT consider that a hint.
I heard the ice cream truck approaching, and I stopped what I was doing. I ran to the fence and stared. And then I ran inside to get the camera. I tried to be sneaky while taking his picture, because I didn't want him to think I was some kind of nut parent who was afraid the ice cream truck driver was some kind of kid stalker. And I also didn't want him to think I was some kind of nut who was an ice cream truck driver stalker.
Coming around at 4:30 on a Thursday afternoon seems a little odd, but I'm not really well versed in ice cream truck schedules. However, I plan to be ready next Thursday. I'm going to have my dime ready, and I'm going to run out there and yell back at the house, "Do you want an ice cream sandwich? Or a Nutty Buddy?" as if there is a small child in the house who has polio or swine flu or something else that keeps him or her from coming out to the ice cream truck personally.
I'm going to buy enough ice cream from the ice cream truck this year to make up for all those years I was deprived of even the knowledge that the ice cream truck man is real.