Back in the 80's, when my youngest brother (Davy) was a kid, and I was an obnoxious teen, we took great delight in the ice cream truck that rolled through our neighborhood several times during the summer months. Back then the ice cream truck was a regular thing, and kids today have no idea what they are missing!
So let me take you back to a typical summer evening at the Meys house. We'll say that it is six o'clock on a Tuesday night, and that means we had chicken. No, I'm not kidding. Dinner was served promptly (and do I mean promptly) at 5:30, so we would be cleaning up. Mom would be making Dad's lunch, and rejoicing that she only had one to pack, instead of five. One of us would be washing the dishes, one drying the dishes, and the other one would have set the table earlier, and would now be sweeping. Davy wouldn't be in the rotation yet, but soon. Dad would be outside tending his roses, or watering the gardens. (Wow did that make me nostalgic.) Although that time of day was the bane of my existence back then. Damn dishes.
All would be running like clockwork (unless some children weren't getting along) until Davy or I would hear the faint jingle of the ice cream truck's song. When this occurred, whoever heard it first was then required to scream ICE CREAM at the top of their lungs! Most often we heard it at the same time, and from separate corners of the house would scream it, scaring the hell out of my Mom. "What is WRONG with you Joanmarie?" Notice who got blamed. However, she had mellowed out by then, so at least I didn't get smacked, or grounded. :)
Then the four of us would run around like mad fiends looking/begging for enough change to at least get a Popsicle. I have never been a huge ice cream fan, it was just the whole experience. If it happened on a Saturday night we always got something for Grandma Lenihan too. She stayed over with us on the weekends. I can hear her "For John sake!" in my head, as she would laugh at our antics. Then the barefoot race out the door to the truck, where all the neighborhood kids would be gathered. We would buy our treasures and head back to the front steps to eat them, with someone nagging at us to get a move on and finish our chores. If it was hot out we would probably get a soak with the hose, from Dad, as he traveled around the yard.
Fast forward to this past Tuesday. I had just put color in my hair and sat down to watch TV while it marinated. Oh, and I had some pj's on., tank top and shorts pj's. It was a warm evening (finally) and the windows were open. All of the sudden my bat ears detect a faint sound. Aloud, from some Pavlovian response no doubt, I involuntarily blurted out "ice cream". What? Then I listened harder. Could it be?
Here is the conversation in my head:
Change! I need change!
Duh, you just put color in your hair.
Ah who cares. Where's the laundry money??
Dude, you have Jammie's on and a tank top with no bra!
Hmmmm...... I can't put anything on over this damn hair. But still......
Hello?! Lactose intollerous. (as the goovers say)
Damn, I hate you.
It was, in fact, a bright shiny Ice Cream Truck! The next day I saw them on facebook and it said they would be in Superior every Tuesday. I will be ready for them next time! I can't wait to see what it costs these days. That might just spin another blog, and yes, the pain of eating it will be worth an ice cream sandwich straight from the truck!
So let me take you back to a typical summer evening at the Meys house. We'll say that it is six o'clock on a Tuesday night, and that means we had chicken. No, I'm not kidding. Dinner was served promptly (and do I mean promptly) at 5:30, so we would be cleaning up. Mom would be making Dad's lunch, and rejoicing that she only had one to pack, instead of five. One of us would be washing the dishes, one drying the dishes, and the other one would have set the table earlier, and would now be sweeping. Davy wouldn't be in the rotation yet, but soon. Dad would be outside tending his roses, or watering the gardens. (Wow did that make me nostalgic.) Although that time of day was the bane of my existence back then. Damn dishes.
All would be running like clockwork (unless some children weren't getting along) until Davy or I would hear the faint jingle of the ice cream truck's song. When this occurred, whoever heard it first was then required to scream ICE CREAM at the top of their lungs! Most often we heard it at the same time, and from separate corners of the house would scream it, scaring the hell out of my Mom. "What is WRONG with you Joanmarie?" Notice who got blamed. However, she had mellowed out by then, so at least I didn't get smacked, or grounded. :)
Then the four of us would run around like mad fiends looking/begging for enough change to at least get a Popsicle. I have never been a huge ice cream fan, it was just the whole experience. If it happened on a Saturday night we always got something for Grandma Lenihan too. She stayed over with us on the weekends. I can hear her "For John sake!" in my head, as she would laugh at our antics. Then the barefoot race out the door to the truck, where all the neighborhood kids would be gathered. We would buy our treasures and head back to the front steps to eat them, with someone nagging at us to get a move on and finish our chores. If it was hot out we would probably get a soak with the hose, from Dad, as he traveled around the yard.
Fast forward to this past Tuesday. I had just put color in my hair and sat down to watch TV while it marinated. Oh, and I had some pj's on., tank top and shorts pj's. It was a warm evening (finally) and the windows were open. All of the sudden my bat ears detect a faint sound. Aloud, from some Pavlovian response no doubt, I involuntarily blurted out "ice cream". What? Then I listened harder. Could it be?
Here is the conversation in my head:
Change! I need change!
Duh, you just put color in your hair.
Ah who cares. Where's the laundry money??
Dude, you have Jammie's on and a tank top with no bra!
Hmmmm...... I can't put anything on over this damn hair. But still......
Hello?! Lactose intollerous. (as the goovers say)
Damn, I hate you.
It was, in fact, a bright shiny Ice Cream Truck! The next day I saw them on facebook and it said they would be in Superior every Tuesday. I will be ready for them next time! I can't wait to see what it costs these days. That might just spin another blog, and yes, the pain of eating it will be worth an ice cream sandwich straight from the truck!
No comments:
Post a Comment