The Dangers of Ice Cream

All through elementary school we lived in Chespeake, VA. It was a good place to grow up. My neighborhood was called Foxgate Quarters. I don't know why. There were no foxes or gates. But it was cool because in the summer the ice cream man would come through our neighborhood. It was just like in the movies, he has the fun colorful truck that played "The Entertainer" as he drove through. However, unlike in the movies the ice cream man actually created a very stressful five minutes for me and my friends. Usually we would be playing in someone's backyard or swimming when we would hear the music from the truck. We knew that we had a short window to make it into the house, convice our moms to give us money, then out to the street before the truck drove away. It was a very frantic process, and for me, a dangerous process. I always got hurt when I would try to get ice cream from the ice cream man. It was inevitable.

One time Corie and I were swimming in my backyard when we heard the truck so we jumped out of the pool and without bothering to dry off or put clothes on we got our money and rain out to the street. The truck had already left our block so we ran down to the next block. On our way we noticed some glass on the sidewalk, and since we had not put shoes on we both made a note to be careful of the glass. In all the excitement of getting a strawberry scooter to snack on I forgot about the glass. So while we were walking back I felt a pain in my foot and then realized I was leaving a trail of blood behind me. Yes, I had stepped on the glass and cut my foot wide open. I still have a scar from that incident. Another time I was in my house when I heard the truck. I ran outside. In the middle of my yard there was a little hole, that I knew about, but once again in all the excitement I forgot. I ran out of the door, into the yard, into the hole, and just fell on my face. I didn't even get to get ice cream that time. Then another time I tripped in the street and skinned my knee. I think all the excitement of hearing "The Entertainer" and knowing that I had a limited time to get a delicious ice cream treat just made my mind fly out the window.

My dad told me that all my injuries must be a sign (that is a typical Donnie thing to say, "O it must be a sign"). I was no longer allowed to get ice cream from the ice cream man. I was very sad, but at the same time my life got much less stressful that summer. Still to this very day I have not had ice cream from an ice cream truck since the summer of 1997. But everytime I hear "The Entertainer" I have to be extra careful not to step in holes, or glass, or to just fall down. Who knew that ice cream could be so dangerous?