“ICE CREAM MAN!”
Standing on our porch and feeling like Lil Ray Ray with my hair standing straight up in a defiant half combed afro, I am panting.
Panting because my son and I just ran outside for …The Ice Cream Man.
One minute I hear his jaunty melody and I ask The Round Head Boy, ” Hey, isn’t that the Ice Cream Man?” We’d missed him yesterday and that was the first time I’d heard him in years…it seems. The Round Head Boy and I were disappointed. For some reason, we wanted some of his ‘you know it ain’t kosher or organic Monsanto no real ingredients’ ice cream. What luck to hear his song the very next day!
So, we run outside from the family room, which is about three clicks from the front door, only to find out that bastard has made it almost to the corner. I yell, “ICE CREAM MAN!” the way we used to in the ’80’s. He must not have heard me because it seemed like he actually sped up and turned the corner.
The Round Head Boy is so disappointed. In order to comfort him, I said, “That is the fastest damn ice cream man in the world, baby…and I’m sorry. Now go inside and eat some 0f that organic crap we have in the freezer”.
In other news, Marco Rubio is running for president. Damn. I may have an ice cream, too. What’s the world coming too?