It was a great trip to our new beach "house" and the weather was divine. We spent our days lounging in the sand and frolicking in the waves, doing everything but really nothing at all. This trip a discovery was made by my sweet bean, and I got one sweet memory to boot. We were all sitting in our beach chairs one afternoon, enjoying our surroundings when I heard it: the jingly, slightly static but funky little melody from my past. Could it be? Was it really THE ICE CREAM TRUCK? (I can't help but think back to that Eddie Murphy comedy bit about the ice cream truck - 'member that one? "I got my ice cream, and you can't have none.")
I jumped out of my chair and turned to see the truck approaching. Until this moment, my soon to be five-year old son didn't even know ice cream trucks existed. Yet somehow, by that jangled-up tune, he knew exactly what was headed his way. His face lit up and he looked at me with the biggest of eyes. I barely got the words "ice cream" out of my mouth and he was off, joining the hoards of other kids dashing toward the truck. Great White Hunter and I gave each other a quick look, then he dashed to the car for some $$ and I started throwing things out of my beach bag in search of something to take pictures with.
I emerged with our video camera, which thankfully takes still pictures, just in time to see child o'mine hand his money over to the ice cream man and receive his treat. He chose a