The ice cream truck hates me...

I have really fond memories of ice cream trucks.  First,  from when me and my little brother were young, and we would hear it coming, and both start scrambling to get our mom or dad to give us money...rushing them as though our lives depended on it.  I don't ever remember them saying no to us about it either. And now that our parents are gone, and realizing  how sometimes things were really bad financially,  that touches my heart. Then with my own children, though they didn't get to experience the neighborhood drive through ice cream truck, because where our house was, there weren't enough families to make it profitable or worth it.   But, my children did get to buy ice cream from a truck a few times in their young lives. 

So, I have had this overwhelming desire to be able to buy my grandchildren ice cream from the ice cream truck that randomly shows up in our neighborhood.  But, every single time it has come around, it was after 7 pm at night, when my grandchildren, who live one minute away from us, are either getting ready for, or are already in bed.

Well today, being Saturday, and it was only a little after 5:00, I got super excited because I heard the "tune" from the ice cream truck on the main road beside our neighborhood.  I jumped up, grabbed the phone and called my daughter to prepare her for my big plan.  "When it comes by our house, I will stop him, and tell him where to go, you guys all get whatever you want, and then he can come back to me and I will pay him."  Yes, I am that person, the one who feels that if I want to do something, I have no problem asking this random ice cream truck driver, very nicely, to please indulge a grandma who wants to do something sweet for her family.  And yes, I would have tipped said driver, of course.  And, its not like it wouldn't be convenient to come back by our house anyway on their way out of the neighborhood, since there are only 3 ways out.

Can you imagine NOT bringing ice cream to these perfect children?

Well, it didn't happen, the truck never came into our neighborhood, obviously said driver felt it would be useful to play the little tune, as he was driving PAST a neighborhood with lots of little ones who would surely love some ice cream.  So my poor little grandchildren will have to wait, yet again, to experience the pure joy and excitement of running outside to the big truck with the silly music, and picking the ice cream flavor of their choice.