Growing up in a small town we had an ice cream guy that was kinda hit or miss. The dude seemingly only showed up outta the blue and had no regular route. So RARELY did we get ice cream treats as we roamed the streets on our BMX bikes for days on end. I remember getting a WWF ice cream bar ONE FUCKING TIME that he showed up and still had them available. It was a great day. I got a Miss Elizabeth card with my bar, it was pretty dope.

Good memories right? The ice cream guy is a special occasion kinda treat, not something you get every time you see him. Worked for me as a kid, that’s the ice cream guy I remember. But then I moved to Bridgeport.

Once the weather warms up JUST A LITTLE that goddamn electronic version of “It’s A Small World” BLARES out in these streets. When the girls were little, and I still had some power in this house, it was easy to dismiss. “Dad doesn’t have any cash” or “We have ice cream at home”. But as they aged, and other family and friends bought them a treat, my excuses fell flat. They learned that the ice cream man takes all sorts of electronic payments. They noticed that dad lost a bunch of weight by NOT HAVING ICE CREAM at home, so that didn’t work any longer.

I’m not against the ice cream guy, but when that motherfucker drives up our street while I am trying to get my kids to eat their veggies, he becomes a HUGE distraction. I become the worst dad ever in record time and the tears start flowing. It’s great lemme tell ya! But it’s not just at home he’s ruining my life.

My girls have been playing t-ball for 3 years and guess who is there EVERY TIME they finish a game? That’s right, the goddamn ice cream guy. When I grew up, we’d hit DQ as a team on the last game of the year. We didn’t get a goddamn treat after every game like these kids now. But it’s even worse than just that. Last year, I’d be trying to get home for the podcast and we had a decision to make. We can say no to ice cream man and the tears will start flowing. The yelling will start and if they have some energy, they might run away. It’s compounded when other parents buy their kids the ice cream and it makes me feel (and look) so bad. That’s parent pressure my friends.

Or we can buy the damn ice cream…problem solved….everyone’s happy…..not so fast! Now we gotta get in a long ass line and hope it moves quickly. Why are we in a rush? So we can get two tired girls to bed before they enter the witching hour which no doubt will make our lives a pure hell. You can’t skip bathing them to speed up the night either cause they’ve been playing in dirt for an hour. They dusty AF.

Or we can do what I always want to do, TELL THEM TO EAT THE GODDAMN TREAT they just got from a teammate. That usually gets the tears too, but damn, the kid in me would have LOVED a small Gatorade and a rice krispie treat after getting blanked by the opposing pitcher. Hell, I’d even have eaten Cheez-Its which says a lot. Cheez-Its suck ass.

In conclusion, know your place ice cream guy. I can’t buy ice cream after every game. I can’t buy it before dinner. Lose my address, please.

-MSS