Oh the glorious sounds of the ice cream truck.
Every time I hear the ice cream man drive by there’s a little 10 year old girl inside of me that gets really excited. I am reminded of the days when my neighborhood friends and I would be playing outside in the backyard on the swing set or in the sandbox and the moment we heard that distinctive jingle we jumped up, screamed “Mom! (or Dad!)” and ran straight for the brightly colored van. My favorite item was the cherry screwball. Yum! Those were the days.
It has been years since I bought anything from the truck. I’ve been told the prices have gone way up since the mid 90’s. Instead of grabbing a dollar you may need to grab five. It’s not like you’re eating the ice cream everyday (at least I hope not!) so a splurge here and there is fine. It’s ice cream!
There is a persistent driver who at times seems like he circles the TV station everyday. Hopefully it’s because we are located next to a park and not the fact that he knows how vulnerable I am. I will probably cave at some point this summer. :)