My dad cracks me up.
This is snippet from an email he sent me today with the subject ‘Just a Rainy Friday‘:
I guess you were wondering how old I was when I realized that mom wasn’t always right.
Well………It was about 1957.
I was four years old. It was a different world back then. Kids could run the neighborhood and nobody thought twice about it. I wanted to get an ice cream from the Good Humor ice cream truck that was sure to come bye in the next hour or so. Back then the ice cream truck was always washed and waxed. It was white with Good Humor on the side. The driver was dressed in a white uniform with a white cap.
My mom gave me a dime and told me to stand in front of the house. DO NOT go into the street. Put your hand up and the driver will pull over and you can choose your ice cream. The truck appeared at the end of the street and I got ready in my very best posture. My hand was stiffly poised as if I were an Indian saying “How”. As the truck got to me the driver looked at me, waved, and went on his way.
I was crushed. So much for mom’s advice on how to stop the ice cream truck. I immediately resorted to the wild gyration method used by the other kids. This seemed to work every time.
So be careful what you tell Josiah. This is serious.