We live in a small town and spring is heralded by the tinny melodies of the roaming ice cream truck. When we first moved here as a newlywed couple it was a pleasant surprise to occasionally run to the truck to grab whatever dessert that tempted us that day. I still love when the vehicle laden with frosty treats comes around because I'm immediately brought back to my childhood when getting ice cream was a rare and special treat and for some reason, it always seemed to taste better when it unexpectedly came to you.
But now that my daughter is nearly four years old and aware of what the repetitive music means, my friendship with the ice cream truck has taken a dark turn. At first the truck's song is a little muffled and I hopefully think "maybe he'll turn the corner before he gets to my street." Oh no, this truck goes down every street it seems so you can hear the same two tunes about 30 times as the truck meanders closer and closer. Usually about a few blocks away, my daughter hears the songs that have already started to burn in my brain a little and the inevitable begging begins.
While I often want ice cream myself, neither of us needs to get ice cream from that truck several times a week so "no" is my typical response to her pleas which can escalate into a full-on tantrum. If that isn't bad enough, the truck doesn't even have to be present to inspire suggestions like, "Mommy, let's go see if we can find the ice cream truck, today."
Sometimes I'm lucky that fresh fruit can still sometimes be an acceptable substitute. At others, the next best thing to the ice cream truck can suffice - an upcoming trip to Grandma's house for ice cream. And if I'm lucky enough to hear the truck first, I'm not above turning the TV on and increasing the volume to drown out the songs.
Originally Published by Sandra K. Lee on May 2, 2010 on the New Jersey Mom's Blog.
Sandra K. Lee