Ice Cream Trucks were such a treat for me until I realized:
- Those guys never wash their hands. Ever.
- My kids can hear their music from 17 miles away.
- It costs $5 for an icey treat that would cost me 12 cents in the grocery store.
The only acceptable ice cream trucks around here are made of paper and can be recycled once they annoy me.
I have no problem with treating myself my kids to an ice pop every now and again on a hot summer afternoon, despite the fact that we have a freezer full of the exact same ones sitting in our garage.
The problem is that the ice cream trucks pass our home blasting that wretched music a minimum of three times a day, every day. Usually approximately 8 minutes before a meal is being served.
Just saying “No, not today” was getting boring, so I’ve taken to more creative ways of deterring my kids from seeking icy cold shuttupery from the creepy ice cream man.
If you, too, loathe the telltale tinkling tunes of your local ice cream truck and are getting sick of saying the same thing over and over again, you have my permission to use any of the following replies to your children’s cries of:
“MOM! I hear the ice cream truuuuuuuck!”
1. That’s the musical Homework Truck. Would you prefer staying inside to do your homework or going to the pool?
2. That guy doesn’t sell ice cream. He’s giving away brussel sprouts.
3. That’s the rectal suppository truck. Trust me, you do NOT want one of those.
4. Oh, that thing? It’s a music truck, not an ice cream truck. I don’t know why they make them look exactly the same. So strange.
5. They don’t accept money, they only accept bags of toys as payment. “Rocket Pop $4” means you need to give him four bags of your favorite toys for one pop. Does that seem fair to you?
6. They only play that song when it’s our neighborhood’s time to nap.
7. That van is filled with the angry clowns that haunt your dreams.
8. If you get a job and brush your teeth more often, you can have all the ice cream you want. Until then? Tough luck, buttercup.
excellent
The ice cream truck came through today. I was in the bedroom watching a baseball game. I walked into the living room to tell my women I loved them and my wife and youngest daughter were running down the street in their pajamas after the brussel sprout man.
I guess it helps if your wife isn’t in on the scam too.
Lance recently posted..Sooner or Later
Um, yeah. It helps if your wife isn’t sprinting down the street trying to get a Sno-Cone.
Oh man, you made me laugh, Lance…
Never underestimate the cleverness of these ice cream truck people. My in-laws have thirteen children, and one of those trucks is parked constantly in their cul-de-sac. They know that eventually some of them will wander out with money unbeknownst to their parents. Eh, at least it keeps the truck off my street.
Kathy at kissing the frog recently posted..Mom-isms. ‘Nuff Said
Sorry, I blacked out when you said “thirteen children”. Then my uterus cried.
That’s a lot of frigging Rocket Pops.
I have absolutely used the Brussel Sprouts line…except with broccoli. They bought it – but only after making me explain why there were photos of non-broccoli ice cream on the truck. I said that the man had borrowed his cousin’s truck because his had broken down. Who me? Lie? Never!
Kristin @kdwald recently posted..Lazy Mom’s Guide to Rationalizing Letting Preschoolers Watch The Boob Tube
Oh, what tangled webs we weave, when avoiding the ice cream truck!
I’ve always said that a janky van and a boombox with a cooler full of push-pops does not make a legit ice cream truck. Most are probably just drug fronts anyway…at least of the sugar variety.
I’ve heard some of the excuses you’ve listed above, and I agree they’re all gold. Good luck with that though.
That is the best description of those mofos that I’ve ever read. Just Say No, kids!
Love!!
ronnie recently posted..My First Vlog Post
Thanks!
In our old neighborhood (pre-kids), the too-frequent music of the ice cream truck became nauseating–good for the diet at least?
Will keep your list on hand though in case the truck starts making it’s way to this neighborhood!
Meredith recently posted..The Magazines of Our Mothers: The Monday Review
Lol! A Pavlovian response that works for the waistline. Awesome.
We were haunted by that truck on the lovely, park-adjacent cul-de-sac we live in back in Georgia. When’s dinner tonight? 5:43? Look, it’s 5:37 and here come that MOTHER-LOVIN’ Ice Cream Effer.
Ninja Mom recently posted..Everything I need to know about parenting paradigms I learned from playing Final Fantasy in the 90s.
I think we waits til we all fire up the bbqs and then starts his engine. The bastard.
When I lived in the city (prekids) that effin truck parked outside my window, and it is the devil’s music. Whenever my kids ask me for anything I tell them get a job – always good advice.
One Funny Motha recently posted..A Week of Linsanity
Child Labor Laws, Shmild Smabor Shmaws.
Ha! I’m borrowing those for sure, but I hope it’s okay if I use them out of order because I’m using #7 first.
Hollow Tree Ventures recently posted..10 Completely Non-Snarky Thank Yous
Use them any way you wish. You have my blessing.
Great post!
We call them “Scary on wheels!”
gina valley recently posted..If That’s Bird Poop, It Must Be Monday
I LOVE that. Love.
Sometimes our ice cream truck plays Christmas music. It’s weird.
thoughtsappear recently posted..Hades Has Got Moves Like Jagger
That hurts me brain. I don’t understand…..
I’m going to tell my kids that the ice cream truck only plays music when it’s out of ice cream (my kids are 3 and 1, so I still rule over all. Kinda).
I LOVE this.
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Here in Tiny Town, we only have one guy that is the Sno-Cone, Ice Cream Truck man. He does not drive through neighborhoods, he stops only at parks. The closest park to me is 13 miles away. He comes to the kid’s camp everyday, so she gets one Sno-Cone every day.
But it makes me sad, because there have been so many hot summer evenings that I have wished that I could hear the out-of-tune wail of the Sno-Cone man’s little truck bringing me his specialty wares. Instead, I have to get off my butt, walk to the kitchen and stand with my face in the freezer for several minutes to decide if it’s worth the dishes that I will need to use for ice cream. The answer is usually always no.
That’s what paper bowls or ice cream cups were made for, my dear. The too-tired-to-do-dishes summer days.