There is an ice cream man who drives his truck around our new neighborhood. For weeks Ly has heard the tantalizing sound of his catchy pop goes the weasel music and rushed to the door, money in hand to try and buy an ice cream only to find out the truck had already passed her house and was down some other block. In her minds eye she pictured herself running barefooted or maybe in her sandals up to the ice cream man's truck with a handful of quarters and eagerly picking out an ice cold treat, one customer among a throng of children on bicycles. Maybe the ice cream man would have 50-50 bars or big sticks.
This afternoon Ly heard the telltale song, grabbed Alan and ran outside...imagine her joy when the ice cream man was parked right outside her house. Ly eagerly looked on his menu for 50-50 bars or big sticks but they were not there. After she shelled out 5 bucks (Alan wanted an ice cream too) for an ice cream cone, Ly's fascination with the ice cream man ended. Some things are better left in your imagination.
1 comment:
This was cute. :)
Post a Comment