Ding ding ding
Today was an average day in the life of Mystie. I was watching Pee-Wee's Playhouse before bed, so I was having some pretty backwards dreams that caused me to get up early. I used the extra time to debate which shoes I was going to wear and whether or not my capris from the end of last summer are just a little too big to wear now. I went to work where I ate 15 million cups of popcorn and sat back pondering if my life would feel more exciting if instead of sending out bills for 401.1 (hypertension) I instead got to use the E codes more often. That's the good shit that covers every "accident" diagnosis from getting a football in the groin to holding a grenade too long in battle. One day we got into a serious debate on how to code the removal of a fetus in fetu.
When I got out of work the sun was still shining brightly and I was happy as a pig in mud that I was about to start a 3-day weekend. I got home and hadn't even removed my work badge yet when I heard a familiar ring outside. I grabbed some cash and ran out the front door, camera in hand, and looked around... but then I heard nothing. I waited... but there was nothing but the buzz of a weedwacker next door. When I retreated in doors I heard the noise again, and went back out to lean against my car as I drew closer.... and closer....
I saw him at the corner, and skipped forward, flailing my arms at the chimes of Mister Softee. He pulled towards me, bells ringing as I smiled and said, "I KNEW I heard you coming!" I ordered a delicious chocolate ice cream cone, which I paid $1.75 for and doomed myself to dinner of a Lean Pocket and a bowl of vegetables. It was worth it, though, it's all part of the warm weather experience! Ruining dinner by chasing down the ice cream man and sitting on the front step licking away is the thing summer TV specials are made of!
When I got out of work the sun was still shining brightly and I was happy as a pig in mud that I was about to start a 3-day weekend. I got home and hadn't even removed my work badge yet when I heard a familiar ring outside. I grabbed some cash and ran out the front door, camera in hand, and looked around... but then I heard nothing. I waited... but there was nothing but the buzz of a weedwacker next door. When I retreated in doors I heard the noise again, and went back out to lean against my car as I drew closer.... and closer....
I saw him at the corner, and skipped forward, flailing my arms at the chimes of Mister Softee. He pulled towards me, bells ringing as I smiled and said, "I KNEW I heard you coming!" I ordered a delicious chocolate ice cream cone, which I paid $1.75 for and doomed myself to dinner of a Lean Pocket and a bowl of vegetables. It was worth it, though, it's all part of the warm weather experience! Ruining dinner by chasing down the ice cream man and sitting on the front step licking away is the thing summer TV specials are made of!
Yay that sounds pretty good. We have been eating the heck out of sugar free bomb pops lately. They taste pretty good, I haven't honestly had a bomb pop before that I remember having. I remember having disney popsicles that were shaped as disney characters like goofy, mickey, donald, etc. I remember them being very good. But who knows it must of just been the novelty. I think my best friend is addicted to bomb pops now. They are sugar free so no guilt there, and walmart has been selling them a box of 12 for 1.50 so they aren't a rip off by any means.
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You lucky girl.
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Dang. An ice cream man with real ice cream and not a cooler full of Dora the Explorer pops.
I really need to visit the east coast.
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I am so jealous. I grew up in a suburb where we did not have the luxury of the ice cream man, so I have never actually experienced the joys of running up to the truck with a fistful of cash to exchange for ice creamy goodness. I feel the my childhood was somehow lacking because of this. I live in a larger city now, but in a really rough neighborhood (rent's cheap and I was a hungry college student). We can hear the ice cream truck in the distance, taunting us with its magical tunes and promises of cold sweet treats, but damned if we can ever see him. We have even driven around the block trying to find where the unmistakable music is coming from, but he eludes us every time. I guess he is many blocks away in a friendlier neighborhood. Now I'm sad and I want one of those Mickey Mouse ice cream pops.
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In the mid to late 80's, when I went to Wreck Beach, at the top of Trail 3, a Dickie Dee fellow on a bike would be waiting for us, and I would have an ice pop that had root beer and orange flavour. That was the best thing, after a day of soaking up the sun nude!
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Where's my damn toy makeover, woman?!
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