Saturday, August 31, 2019

The Ice Cream Truck Cometh

This morning started out what a happy meeting of my best friend's new family dog, Remy.   He's a Golden Doodle they got last night, surprising their children up until the moment they were in sight of the dog.  Matisse and fifteen-week-old Remy had the best time, playing together much like Matisse and Daisy, my brother- and sister-in law's Golden Doodle had played together when we were at our family reunion. 

Everyone had fun watching them, and my daughter enjoyed giving them both treats and petting the amiable Remy.  They left, and things went back to normal here at the house with my son spending his screen time watching YouTube videos about games he plays or would like to play.   He got a bit in trouble for bad language on one of the channels, but he was excused because he was browsing for new things to watch and didn't know the channel he had picked was inappropriate since you don't know if there will be swearing until you get into the video itself. 

My husband went off to a Tesla meetup while my daughter waited for the ice cream truck.   She was obsessed with the potential arrival of the ice cream truck.   She knew it came on Saturday, but it hasn't always happened and the time has varied significantly in the past.   She remained resolute. It was coming, however.   She was so sure she had had her father get some money out and put it in the bowl at the front door.  

For the next bit, my daughter would say she heard the ice cream truck, go outside and then find it wasn't there.   This went on for a while until my husband left and told me as he was driving off, "the children are going over to Maddie, Ellie, Gigi and Juju's house to see puppy again."   I grabbed my shoes, the dog's e-collar and controller, and she and I headed out to catch up with my son and daughter. 

Their puppy was tired.   Remy played a little, but he'd had a long night and big first day, and he just wanted to fall asleep, much to the disappointment of our dog.   My daughter was remaining close to their front door, convinced the ice cream truck was going to arrive momentarily.   

I told everyone she was certain, but the rest of us were not, that the ice cream truck was a guarantee and time was a total unknown.   My daughter went outside to wait, saying she thought she might have heard it. 

Not two minutes later she came back in and said the ice cream truck was coming.   I didn't believe her.   She'd hopefully heard it already several times today.   I went out to confirm it was another false alarm when, surprisingly, I heard the ice cream truck. 

Much mayhem ensued in which I thought my children were going back to our house but they weren't.  I lost the dog and then spied her barking, happily, several houses away at a dog inside a fence.   She didn't come when I called her so I used the e-collar (something I don't have to often do).   She came running towards me and we went home. 

My children found me later, after eating ice cream.   Someone paid for it.   I think my son got on his scooter and ran in to get the money.   They said they were sorry I had missed the ice cream truck.   To them, as children, the ice cream truck is something of a magical experience.   It's just ice cream to me.

The Big Boy Update:  My son wasn't that interested in meeting the puppy today.   He likes our dog and other dogs, but he doesn't love dogs like my daughter does.   This morning he was more interested in the children than the dogs.  He loves our dog, but he doesn't want to be around her and do things with her like my daughter does. 

The TIny Girl Chronicles:  When my daughter arrived back at our house from getting ice cream, I could tell what she selected.   She had ice cream sandwich all over her hands and her face and glasses hadn't been spared.   We had to wash her face completely and her hands up above the wrists.   She didn't mind—she had gotten ice cream from the Ice Cream Truck.

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