The Ice Cream Truck

the ice cream truck do you remember in fourth grade when it was the end of the school year? kids running around in class, volunteer parents planning for field day events, teachers grading tests. a year's worth of crafts and colorful displays filled the walls like wallpaper. you can hear singing from the kids in room 4b, ms. mcdonald's class. the weather outside was a balmy 80 on this june day. text books, paint brushes, and the obligatory pre-chewed bubble gum filled the desk cavity. the assistant principle announces something inaudible on the speaker system. and we are fast approaching the anticipated summer break. summer. that's when spring lovers finally kiss and the butterflies leave their cocoon. birds singing and the flowers are saturated with their red, blue, and pink hues. the last day of school is finally here and the children ride the bus for the last time. vacations. swimming pools. ocean city. the smell of hot dogs, grass and humidity. jersey summers are hot. really hot where i grew up. you sweat just by looking out the window. then one day, the familiar sound of circus-like music faintly approaches town. louder and louder until everyone knows its the ice cream truck turning the street corner. the famous mr. softee, or good humor truck, or some local self employed bearded man. whatever it was, ice cream in all kinds, flavors, colors, and shapes was 25 yards and 25 cents away. the music kept playing as children seemingly sprayed out of their homes in rapid succession. a gathering soon followed with parents and children standing all against that delicious truck. chocolate. peanut butter. vanilla. strawberry. cookies and cream. cookie dough. sandwiches. bowls. cones. smoothies. sundays. sprinkles. nuts. oh so yummy! i miss that ice cream truck. i miss those days... ...and i miss you just as much.