When I was a kid there were ice cream parlors; Jahn's was our favorite, with its 1890s decor. My dad was a big ice cream lover; there was a time he ordered the kitchen sink (a dish mean to be shared by ten) and finished it all! Except for chocolate—my dad didn't like chocolate. We took lots of family walks and sometimes we'd find a Carvel store. What a treat to have the soft swirl cone, so different from the solid texture of regular ice cream. I loved the wafer cones best, though my parents argued for sugar cones. What fun to try to savor the ice cream before it began running down your hand in a sticky mess. Ice cream is delicious anytime, but when summer comes, it's magic. When the ice cream truck starts rolling down the street with its music sending out the call, you know that summer is on its way, even if it hasn't fully settled in yet. It's like reliving your childhood when a child runs into the house yelling that the ice cream man's coming or you see the neighborhood kids racing out of their houses shouting for the truck to stop. You scream! I scream! We all scream for ice cream! The trucks may look different— no more Bungalow Bar with its brown peaked roof, no so many Good Humor or Mr. Softee these days. The trucks are more generic now, and there's more variety: ice cream, Popsicles, frozen yogurt, even candy, but they get the job done. May we always have money for the ice cream man as they keep singing summer's song.
~Elise Skidmore ©2023
Lovely sentiment, ideal and stripped in memory.
Thank you so much.