Travel Pete's Journal: Basements, Kids & Mental Health

The Trauma of the Mario

Ahhh! The Ice Cream Truck.

What a wonderful reality from my childhood -- racing down the street after the swiftly moving truck in 120F degree weather, hauling ass because we had no shoes and the black tar streets of Phoenix were hot enough to cook eggs (another summer pasttime).

Yup. Good times, good times!

For example, I forgot about having to pay for ice cream.

I'm sure somebody did. I'm sure I did, but boy did I forget that happened.

I know because Max has been on the go chasing down the Ice Cream Truck, introduced to him a few days ago by an overly excited father. Now, he adores it and adores me, or so I hope.

Each day or two, it's another $2.40 worth of Super-Mario face-shaped ice cream onna stick with surprise-colored gumball nose.

Wow, that's expensive love.

Now, to the trauma. Max has been getting the Mario character because it's the only ice cream on the side of the truck that looks, errr, fun, I think.

So he gets the Mario face on a stick with gumball nose, and proceeds to eat and lick it in such a painfully slow manner I wonder if he's my child after all!!!

Unfortunately, this leads to drippage, spilling and, finally, splittage. Yup. The remaining Mario splits in half and drops to the driveway cement.

"Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa" is the cry heard 'round the neighborhood.

Max lost his Mario. So, we pick it up, bring it inside, put it on a plate, resuscitate and all is right again.

But it's a good reminder that at any age, there is trauma to be had.

Life's a hard ol' game, no kidding.

One last thing: why do all Ice Cream Truck drivers smoke?

Posted by BilFish at April 30, 2004 07:02 AM