Wednesday, July 8, 2009

The Lack of Good Humor Woman


Dear Jake and Molly,

The ice cream truck came today. Yep, right to the bottom of our driveway. I cringed when I heard the music. I wasn’t sure where you were, but I knew you would come running, quoting back to me my big promise to buy you ice cream every single time the ice cream truck came around.

You see, my memory was that the ice cream truck came to my house about 4 times my entire childhood. When it did, my mom would buy me an orange Push-Up. I would sit on the curb barefoot with my skinned knees pulled up to my chest as I savored my treat. Sometimes a little would drip on my terry cloth shorts.

With regret, I’d eventually lick the little plastic disc clean, and hope the ice cream man would return—someday. As a kid, I vowed I would always say, “YES” to the ice cream truck.

If I had realized that when I became a mom the ice cream truck would show up several times a summer, as well as park in front of our beach rental each and every day of vacation, I might have amended my statement.

For a while, however, I held fast to my promise. I remember the first time we saw an ice cream truck cruising through a local neighborhood…not our own. I was so excited I could barely stand it. We chased it down in the car and I was your hero.

Another time, we heard the music from our screened porch. I sent Molly, barely a toddler, running for my wallet, and I sent you, Jake, up the hill to stall. I set off on foot in the other direction to make sure there was no way the ice cream man could get away. It didn’t matter that dinner wasn’t finished—I was being FUN MOM.

Today, I wasn’t feeling so fun. I knew that between my working and our wacky summer schedule, we’ve been eating a lot of junk, and I was loathe to bring more of it into the house. Also, I knew we had a freezer full of frozen treats already, and I didn’t want to spend $4 each on those neon green concoctions the ice cream man tries to sell these days.

What happened to classics like Chocolate Éclairs, Nutty Buddies and Push-Ups? I mean, what’s an Atomic Sourball? And Ice Cream shaped like Sponge Bob and Dora? Puh-lease.

Truthfully, I was grumpy because I had just tried to renew our library books online and found I couldn’t because I owed too much money. And no one had read any of the books anyway. Oh, and I had just started my period. Is that too weird to hear from your mom?

And? I was in a hurry to get my act together so I could join a few friends at the local wine bar in the hopes that although FUN MOM was gone forever, perhaps we could re-locate FUN ANNA.

I know, it probably doesn’t seem fair that I got my wine, but you got no ice cream.

When you appeared out of the neighbor’s house the second the truck pulled away, oblivious to the hoopla that had just taken place in our very own cul-de-sac, I didn’t try to flag the driver down, and I kept my mouth shut.

I’m sorry. Sort of.

Love and Hugs, Mom

4 comments:

Madge said...

The ice cream truck never comes to our neighborhood. Very sad. But I think it is just fine that you got your wine and they didn't get ice cream. I think Fun Anna is probably the best way to find Fun Mom

Lynn from For Love or Funny said...

No doubt, it's tough being a Mom.

Christen said...

Ha ha! The title of this post is priceless! :)

Kate Coveny Hood said...

You can't always be fun mom. And they didn't know - so what's the harm!?