Thursday, July 08, 2004

My kid wakes up screaming every night when the ice cream man rolls down the street. "Up-A! Up-A!" Some nights he comes the second I lay her down in the crib. Some nights not until 9:30, all the time playing "It's a small world."

What kind of mook runs around the neighborhood trying to sell ice cream in the middle of the night? I picture hoards of middle aged people in boxers and robes and curlers clustered around the ice cream truck, clutching their change and jonesing for an ice cream.

On the fourth, we got ice cream from the ice cream man. I got a cone with strawberry crunch. Mmmm. I had forgotten how good that is. Strawberry and crunchy. Who thought of that?

I think Poppy may have figured the deal out. Funny music comes floating along the street, adults disappear, reappear with ice cream. I'm sure this will only exacerbate the situation.

Anyways: She sleeps through drag racing on our street, white trash screaming fights, firecrackers... But she always wakes up screaming from the ice cream man.

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