Saturday, August 7, 2010

Musical Coma

Summer time has it's charms, doesn't it?  The sunshine saturates your skin and makes you glow.  The soft breezes caress your hair and makes you feel fresh and alive.  The fields of wild flowers, green green lawns, big fluffy clouds.  Riding bikes to the school playground.  Watching butterflies twirl across the bushes.  Hearing the sound of kids laughter and....wait.  What's that noise in the background?  A bike horn?  Someone's radio?  A child's music toy?  No!  It's the ice cream truck!

All playing stops.  Everyone stands still and turns their head to the direction of the music, which for a while, seems to be coming from all directions, encircling you into a musical trance.  It's almost hypnotic.  Forgotten are the toys you were playing with.  The Frisbee flies through the air and  lands softly, the game forgotten. The basketball rolls down the street, neglected.  The swinging stops.  The bike lands in a thud, next to you.  Time has stopped.

You see the truck round the corner, going ever so s.l.o.w.l.y.  It's music is now deafening.  You wonder, how on such a tiny cul-de-sac in the middle of a sea of neighborhoods, the ice cream truck found you.  Does it have some sort of magical GPS that alerts them to children?

The truck is at a standstill. Wating. Waiting. Waiting.  The music is still going.  Blaring. Blaring. Blaring.

My children used to run in and ask for money.  "But puh-lease mom!  It's so so HOT out here.  We NEED it!  The man in the truck is waiting for us!  He will give us ice cream if we bring back money.  PUH-LEASE!"

They know the answer. They know I will never change my mind.

So, they stand and stare at the ice cream truck.  The driver stares back.  The kids salivate at all the creamy goodness to be had inside that truck.  The driver salivates at all the money he could be making if only their mom would give them money.  He decides to wait it out...see if she breaks.  One can stand this jarring music for only so long.  Someone's gotta give.

Still staring.

Finally, ever so s.l.o.w.l.y. the truck begins to pull away.  It takes it's time.  Wouldn't want to miss out on that straggler who managed to collect some change from some hidden corner of their  room.  The jolly amusement-park music fades away.  Reality sets back in.

Kids shake their heads, as if they've been drugged.  Perspective has returned.  They see their bikes, Frisbees, balls, and other neglected toys by the wayside.  They shrug, then begin their activities again.  Their focus is back. Their thoughts have returned.  They are playing again.

The mom, watching from the upstairs window, marvels at the scene before her.  It really was a sight to see.

Ice cream truck...please stay away.

1 comment:

Adri said...

Oh, how I despise the wicked, wicked ice cream man! He pulled into our neighborhood last week just MINUTES after I'd handed out popsicles to half a dozen kids on my front lawn. Still, with popsicles not even consumed, my kids raced inside to BEG for money. My answer is like yours. No way, no how. We buy frozen treats by the BOX at the grocery...much more economically and without the blaring music, thank you very much.