Nothing Stands In Between Me & Mr. Softee

I have a fond childhood memory of the Mr. Softee Ice Cream Truck.  That tune! If what they say about memory and music is true,  I will be forever running to the curb when I hear da deedle de de de de …

It had been decades until today, I heard faint and faraway notes and I knew it.  He was back.  The familiar jingle that once sent me running with change in my hand and joy in my heart, knowing that I would soon have a cone from Mr. Softee.

I bolted outside and called out “Stop! Stop! Mr. Softee!”

But as I ran across the lawn, ouch, holy crap, I stepped on a bee in my bare feet.  I grabbed my toe and called out in pain.  My toe was swelling and pain seared through, but  I was determined to get that cone.

The driver was expressionless as I, the middle aged crazy lady dragged my injured self to his window.   But once there,  my decision making, which is a struggle all by itself was now clouded with pain.

An Ice cream sandwich!  Freshly made right there in front of me, YES!

I paid him and turned to hobble home holding a waxed paper sac with 3 inches of soft serve ice cream nestled between two big chocolate cookies with beautiful rainbow jimmies all around the edges.   I couldn’t wait.  But once inside I had a bee sting to tend to.  Still I had a bite before breaking out my mother’s home remedy (toothpaste) directly on the sting and Advil in case it didn’t work.

I can’t wait until the next time Mr. Softee comes down my street.  I’ve already decided on a chocolate coned dipped in magic.

Also – I’m wearing shoes.