THE STORY YOU ARE ABOUT TO READ IS TRUE; NAMES HAVE BEEN
CHANGED TO PROTECT THEIR BLESSINGS
Somewhere in a normally nondescript Mormon suburb nestled
peacefully below the looming mountains of the Wasatch Front, Suzy Beewhyyou
heard the magic tinkle of the ice cream truck tune gently invite her to burst outside
and throw money away on a frozen fantasy. Those of you who grew up young
without a nice cream truck in your neighborhood are really missing a memory. Daddy Beewhyyou, instinctively knowing that time
was of the essence, quickly pulled out a ten-dollar bill and handed it to the
quivering Suzy. “Bring me the change”
shouted Daddy, as Suzy sprinted out the door to chase down the ice cream truck.
A few minutes later Suzy returned home with the evidence of a
bought fudgesicle splattered across her face but nothing else. “Where’s my change?” Daddy B inquired gently.
“Um, the ice cream man didn’t give me any…” replied Suzy innocently. Daddy B
was morally enraged when he later tracked down Mr. Bob, the Ice Cream Man, who slyly
refused to admit his guilt in taking advantage of Suzy’s total ignorance of the
worth of money to enrich his own pockets.
Daddy and Mommy B swept into action. They visited Mr. Bob’s ice cream wholesaler, described his crime, and
asked that he be fired. The ice cream company was sympathetic, but politely
explained that Mr. Bob was an independent contractor, and that the best they
could do is refuse to sell him their ice cream. It was then that Daddy and Mommy B. received
a bolt of inspiration. They would take the law of capitalism into their own
hands. They would drive the evil ice cream man out of business in their
neighborhood by replacing him with a family- your friendly neighborhood ice
cream family.
This is how they did it. The Beewhyyous pulled money out of their
hard-earned savings and bought enormous amounts of ice cream from an ice cream
wholesaler, then purchased a deep freeze to hold it all. The next time the evil
Mr. Bob drove his ice cream truck down their street, Mommy B announced that any
of the neighborhood kids were welcome at her house for ice cream at a much lower
price than Mr. Bob charged. Soon Mr. Bob realized that driving down the street
where the Beewhyyous lived was not worth his time; the Beewhyyous had the market
for ice cream treats on their street all locked up. For the next many summers, the Beewhyou household
was the center of the summer scene for neighborhood kids.
Now the Beewhyyous are empty-nesters. The kids are gone, but they still keep a freezer
full of ice cream bars on hand, just in case, and everyone lived happily ever after,
except for Mr. Bob.
I thought you mind have found out later that little Susy had forgotten the money in her pocket and that Mr. Bob had given her the fudgecycle for free.
ReplyDeleteWhen I was young we had a small ice cream truck (golf cart size). It brings back fond memories. My neighborhood now has had a van with ice cream and more for the kids to buy. I thought it would be fun to find the old fashioned ice cream truck and have my boys run it for a summer job. I couldn't find one. The would be a fun summer job.