For some reason, the ice cream man chose this weekend to make his debut in my neighborhood. It really isn't the best of weekends to make a person want to go run, screaming, to the ice cream truck, but I figured this thought was contained in my head. Apparently not.
I was sitting in the living room this afternoon, folding laundry, when I heard the unmistakable jingle of the Mister Softee truck off in the distance. I kept folding, waiting for Noah to run screaming, " MISTER SOFTEEE MISTER SOFTEEE!!!" down the hall. As the music reached a crescendo, signalling the arrival of the frozen confection gods, I saw no sign of Noah. The truck passed and barely-audible, I heard him grumble in his room, " I don't know WHY the ice cream truck would come today. It's not a very good day for it!" I giggled and continued folding my laundry.
My neighborhood is set up kind of weird, so that the truck usually has to pass by our house twice ( lucky me) during his run. Sure enough, about thirty minutes later, I heard the truck pass again. Still no frantic activity from Noah's room. Again, in a low grumble, I heard, " Well, this is just ridiculous! ( he pronounces it rid-ic-uh-lus) WHO buys ice cream on a day like this!??"
He never came out of his room. He just continued happily building his GeoTrax village and, I assume, commenting on the state of the world.
**this picture was taken a few weeks ago.. but I thought it was appropriate to illustrate this post
