Captain’s Log. Daddy Chronicles. Summer Break Diaper Date 16. The Ice Cream Man is the enemy. This dastardly individual makes his/her way through my neighborhood at inappropriate times and causes a schism between play friends. It is am awkward moment when one friend has ice cream and another doesn’t.
The Ice Cream Man knows you can’t say no. He stops with a knowing smile and gladly takes your order. And is even happier to
gouge your wallet take your money. “Yes, I would like a frozen Dora with bubblegum eyes. Here’s $5 and my soul.”
The bad part? The Ice Cream Man’s influence melts away in mere minutes. My kid never finishes the gourmet sugar whatever and I watch as my Washingtons get melted down the drain. I cry a little as the proverbial dead presidents float down the drain with the regularity of a Disney parade. Or the wrappers pollute my yard – it’s almost like the Ice Cream Man has marked his territory. In my home. In the place where my wife sleeps and my children play with their toys (Godfather II allusion).
Not anymore Ice Cream Man. No more peeing in my front yard. I’m not sure how I am going to thwart your efforts. But I have some ideas-
1. Ban you from the neighborhood.
2. Make it a law that you can’t play your jovial music within 5 miles of my house.
3. Unplug your ice cream cooler.
4. Replace the pictures of your ice cream with Brussels sprouts and asparagus spears and rutabagas. That’ll show you.
5. Siphon out your gas.
I’m still brainstorming. One Poop Deck Member that I met this weekend tells her kids that the music only plays when the Ice Cream Man is out of ice cream. Brilliant. My only problem is that The Eldest has older friends and they would see straight through my rouse.
So in the mean time ice cream man, I’m calling you out. Watch your candy backs and chocolate dip cones.
For now…Captain out.
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