A haunting sound has filled our nights for about a month now. Imagine you are three and it is almost eight, you've read your stories, brushed your teeth and are nicely tucked into bed when the distant joyfully eerie sound of the ice-cream man is heard. Its enough to drive a small child to tears... oh the injustice of it all! Once the truck came through early enough so we could try to find it, but alas after many minutes of running from one end of the block to another we couldn't locate the source of the sound. The whole situation was so tramautic that we had taken to playing music at bedtime in no small part to mask the torturous tunes.
About a week ago Evie was going to bed later than usual, such that pjs we donned and stories were read but the critical step of teeth had not been brushed. Patrick came home about then and Evie rushed out to see him when the call to ice-cream arms was heard. I, seeing out best chance yet at ice-cream goodness, had Evie jump into the passenger seat of the S-2000 with Patrick while I ran to shut the door. The three of us thereby set off on an ice-cream man chase. We first went right (its difficult to tell where those tunes originate) and stopped to ask some walkers if they had seen said ice-cream man, they indicated they had last seen the van of sugary goodness back behind us. U-turns were made, other walkers were queried until finally we caught up with the elusive beast (and this van really was a beast) about a quarter mile from our house. A small (it was 7:45 after all) treat was purchased and much satisfaction was felt all around. I do, however, still play music most nights to silence the sadistic sugar-man who still insists on visiting our neighborhood at 8 pm every night...
