Cheri at Blog this Mom! is the first San Diego blogger I read after starting San Diego Momma this past winter. She be-charmed me with her dry wit, quiet genius and spectacular writing. It was through Cheri that I met the Blog Bitches and I am forever haunted by thankful for that. I believe that many of you already read Blog This Mom! But if you don’t, leave my blog immediately and get on over there! (But feel free to come back here later) Oh! And you know what I just discovered after all these fabulous guest posters have graced my space with their wise, witty and wonderful words?
I’m blessed.
I was surprised one summer afternoon when I heard that unmistakable jingle coming down our street. I hadn’t seen an ice cream truck since I was a kid and my little brothers and I watched all the neighborhood kids getting Choco Tacos, 50/50 Bars, Drumsticks, and Fudgsicles. We thought of ourselves as poor and didn’t bother begging for change from our mom, who spent afternoons on the couch listening to her Elvis Gospel album and smoking Virginia Slims.
My then-six-year-old daughter, Laura, asked me what the sound was. I knew instantly, but hesitated for just a moment, pondering whether it would be wise to introduce my child to cleverly packaged frozen chemical concoctions. Although she’d been able to get frozen milk solids with high fructose corn syrup, benzyl acetate, butyraldehyde, diethyl glycol, and yellow dye #5 from dealers on the streets, like other mothers at birthday parties, she had yet to complain about the fruit-sweetened, organic soy ice cream at home. On the other hand, what childhood would be complete without ice cream from a truck?
I started running toward the door, pausing only to grab my wallet. I hollered to Laura, “Let’s go! Do you hear it? Listen! We have to catch it! Follow me!” Sensing something spectacular was about to go down, with wide eyes she began to run too. At the door, Laura asked if she should put on her flip-flops. She looked stunned when I said, “No, just keep running!” I had always made her put on shoes to go outside before. But she’d never run after the ice cream truck before! And we all know that children must be barefoot as they run for the ice cream truck. It’s an unwritten law.
We flagged down the truck, and Laura could hardly believe her eyes when she saw all of the goodies from which she could choose. Each treat was shrewdly displayed in a full-color drawing, so that even children who could not yet read would be able to pick out the treats of their desires. Laura selected an ice cream sandwich, ate every bite of it, and thought I was the best mommy God ever made.
A few days later we heard “Turkey in the Straw” blaring from the loudspeaker as it came around the corner. Laura rallied the troops as she ran through the house hollering, “Let’s go! Do you hear it? Listen! We have to catch it! Follow me!” I hesitated for a moment, wondering how I was going to un-ring this bell, but then I grabbed my wallet and followed. As Laura was busy slurping down her frozen delectable, I said firmly, “Honey, you know we are not going to be chasing the ice cream truck every time. Treats are something we have only once in a while.” She replied in a very mature manner in between bites, “Oh, I know. That’s not a problem, Mom.” Golly, that was too easy, I thought. And then Laura added, “We’ll only chase the ice cream truck on the days that we are home to hear it. The days that we don’t hear it will be the days that we don’t get ice cream.”
This brings back fond memories. Our ice-cream truck driver sold weed out of his truck though.
I think your post got cut off after “hollering” – it’s still delicious!
Great story. ;););) (you’re right Cheri – winks are way over used) XOXO, Chris
Hey, Deb,
The last paragraph has been cut off, darlin’. Technical difficulties? I re-sent you the draft.
XOXOXO
the ice cream truck was a small, tiny consolation for the little people when i moved them off of grandma and grandpa’s ranch to the big city of san diego. i pointed out that there’s no ice cream truck at the ranch and the girl said, no, instead we got to go to grandma’s house and eat her ice cream, and that was better. just saying.
Deb:
Ack! You are so awesome and fearless. You sent me your login stuff and asked me to fix the last paragraph and I did and it TERRIFIED me. I’m TERRIFIED in unknown territory like WordPress and I was AFRAID I’d blow up your blog. Ack! Now I have to go back and read my previous post, you know, the post I wrote TO YOU about FEAR. Ack!!! I’m still shaking!!! Ack.
See! Look up there!!! Up there!
That comment? That comment was from me. But I must have pressed the wrong button!!! And now I have taken over your identity! Identity theft. I’m a thief! Ack!!!
The ice cream truck does not come through my neighborhood, much to my dismay. Thank goodness we have a county fair every summer so that I can at least introduce my children to the wonders of funnel cake.
It’s still doing it. See? It did it again. I’m going to be a thief for all eternity. I’m going to hang on a side cross. A thief cross. I can’t make it stop. And I Swear. To. God. I’m signed in as me. Cheri. Cheri @ Blog This Mom!
I did leave the front door open. See? But luckily it was me with the key. I didn’t log out apparently. I think your identity and mine have been restored. Switching Sunday is the new Freaky Friday.
She’s brilliant.
Oh I love this. I am going to have to take a visit to Cheri’s place. So glad you figured out the Sunday Switch!
Cheri? Seriously? I think I might have to stalk you now. But don’t be scared – my brand of stalking never gets more intense than reading your blog a lot. And hounding you about following me on Twitter so often that all your friends tell you to “JUST FOLLOW HER ALREADY, SO SHE’LL STFU, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD!” Ask Bejewell. :nod:
ANYway, awesome post. We have an ice cream truck in our ‘hood every. stinking. day. That gouging bastard.
I’ve been a fan of Blog This Mom! for a couple of weeks now. Been there and won the earrings!
I’ve had an online friend for years. She was once so tickled by a story of me getting a choco taco from the ice cream man that even if we go MONTHS without chatting, she’ll ask if I’ve had one lately.
Great story. I love Laura’s attitude, too!
Love that Cheri (and you, my “Bitchy” friend are aweswome too).
You’re a good mother.
I have such happy memories of the Ice Cream Man when I was a kid.
As an adult though, I can’t help but be a little creeped out by him. That music is downright SCARY.
Bomb pops all the way!
“The ice cream man is coming! The ice cream man is coming!” Eddie Murphy
In my neighborhood, we have a man with an ice cream pushcart. Can you believe that?
hahahaha too funny!
Not having had the ice cream man in our town when i was growing up, I truly feel a loss…a sense of something totally missing from my childhood.~~sigh~~I may never recover. Thank God Hagen Daz and Baskin Robbins are relatively close by…they will work in a pinch….just can’t chase after them or go in without shoes.
p.s. i do love cheri…i plan on moving to her house soon…ssshhh…don’t tell her…i want it to be a surprise!! :-D
Envisions San Diego Momma leaving her house every day at noon with her daughters in tow to hide from the ice-cream man.