When you are a kid, there’s pretty much no vehicle more awesome than an ice cream truck. It’s sugar on wheels. I remember the ice cream truck targeting our neighborhood since it was filled with kids. My brother and I would perk up, then in a joint effort run to our parents. “Can we PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE get some ice cream?!” It was as if nothing else mattered and maybe we could possibly die if ice-creamy goodness did not hit our lips in the next two minutes. Sometimes the ice cream truck would travel to our house close to dinner time, and the answer would be no. In these cases I remember the world ending a little bit. There was some light pouting, maybe some foot stomping. My brother, who is six years younger than myself, would either follow my pout-y lead, or in a true act of excellence THROW himself on the floor. We were dramatic. Mom ignored it. Good move, mom. Imagine what we could do if we had an audience! […]