The ice cream man debate

 I grew up in a house on a fast, 45 mile an hour road.  On a street where our dogs got ran over, and you never, ever saw kids riding their bikes.  We never got trick-or-treaters, even though my mom always bought candy, just in case.  We enjoyed our uniquely Alaskan luxuries- a huge back yard full of fireweed taller than our heads, a 4 wheeler trail, a swing set we hung moose meat on, and a BB gun shooting range.  Despite this, I was always a bit jealous of those culdesac kids. You know, the ones that would play kick ball and capture the flag late into the night with the neighbors.  Also, I dreamed of having the ice cream man drive slowly past my house, playing the Entertainer.


The ice cream man adds a spontaneous, frantic chase to a mundane day.  Following his obnoxiously twangy music, hunting him down becomes a game. The winner is rewarded with melty, sticky, summery, goodness. 

For $2 you can lick a vanilla cone completely covered in sprinkles, or cool off with a fruit popsicle loaded with frozen chunks of real strawberry. Most importantly, for $2 I can check something off my list of  "I always wanted to do that"s.

It's a simple, childlike bliss. . . . and it drives Brady crazy.
 It raises his blood pressure.  He knows we paid as much for 2 cones as we would to buy an entire carton at the grocery store.  It's a frequent debate, and neither of us is likely to be convinced.  Yes, he's right it's not the best value. But, you're not just paying for an ice cream, you're paying for a memory.  And that, is worth every penny.