Ice Cream Wars

Do you have a favorite ice cream man? We do. It's the Mister Softee truck.

(image retrieved from the internet since Mister Softee is like the Loch Ness monster and rarely seen around these parts)

We like him best because he has soft serve ice cream. Alas, he has not been around our neighborhood for the last few years. We've sometimes had visits from the Blue Bunny man, but mostly, we only have the generic, I-wouldn't-buy-anything-outta-his-truck ghetto ice cream man.

That's how we roll here in our 'hood.

(actual Ghetto Man- if you don't hear from me after today, I've been off-ed for whistle-blowing)

I'm starting to think that generic man is a member of the Mafia and is off-ing the other ice cream trucks because he has somehow claimed our turf as his own. I want to know why we don't get a vote... I want Mister Softee back.

About a week ago, we heard the distinct jingle of the Mister Softee truck at 9:30pm. Noah came flying out of his bedroom to inform us just as he drove by. But it was 9:30, on a school night, and we missed him anyway. We hoped this was the start of something good. That we would wake up the next morning with the sun shining, the bluebirds singing and Mister Softee driving through our neighborhood.

It didn't happen.

Yesterday evening, we heard Mister Softee again. Off in the distance. We all scrambled in and raided our wallets/purses/change jars/piggy banks and proceeded back outside to wait for him. He never came. We heard another tune off in the distance- Turkey in the Straw- and sure enough, the bearer was Ghetto Man. We went inside, dejected, thinking maybe we just missed him in our excited frenzy.

This afternoon, rather early, we heard the jingle again. My heart started racing, I jumped inside the front door and grabbed the wad of cash and coins still lying in the entryway from last night's failed attempt to catch the elusive god of frozen confection. The kids were posted at the fence so as not to miss him. I SAW him cross over our street ( they usually weave back and forth across our street onto the side streets) about four blocks down.

He's coming! He's coming! Mister Softee is bringing his little bits of soft-serve frozen heaven to our house at last!

But, then, only minutes after seeing him cross over our street, from the other direction, I heard Turkey in the Straw blaring in utter discord. Such cacophony to my ears. No! No! NOOOO MISTER GHETTO MAN, GO AWAY!!!

GO. AWAAAAY!

And boldly, claiming the turf that is his own, Mister Ghetto Man drove straight up our street,not even criss-crossing and headed down to where Mister Softee was spotted.

We didn't hear the sweet Softee jingle again, but fifteen minutes later, Turkey in the Straw came merrily criss-crossing through our neighborhood from the same direction that Mister Softee was last spotted.

Rest in peace, Mister Softee. We love you.