Here in Southern Georgia, we have some strange cultural practices which mystify children. One is The Ice Cream Man. (I'm mystified mainly that he comes in February...)
One of our neighborhood friends, a 7 year old Matthew, has an unending supply of money to buy overpriced mystical ice cream from the musical mogul. Grace has become fascinated with how indescribably exciting it must be to actually purchase ice cream from a stranger in a musical truck. So, she started asking about a week ago if we could buy some. I put her off with short answers like, I don't want to pay that much for ice cream, etc.
Until one day, she persisted. So, when I had no more clever answers, I pulled out the old let's-wait-until-your-Daddy-gets-home-and-ask-him. So, as soon as our endearing Patriarch comes walking in, "Daddy, let's talk about ice cream now. Daddy, can we please talk about Ice cream now?" With raised eyebrow, Royal gives me the old what-the-heck-is-she-talking-about look.
So, we sat down together. While I expounded the virtue of prudence and thrift, and bargain ice cream from the grocery store, Grace listened patiently. She answered questions and responded in a demonstration of her deep appreciation for such principles. When I had imparted all my motherly wisdom, she sweetly said, "May I buy some ice cream from the ice cream man tomorrow?"
Daddy understood and said this, "Grace, Mommy is saying that you could buy ice cream for less money at the grocery store, and I think what you're saying is that you would like to have the fun of spending the extra money just so you can get ice cream from the Ice Cream Man, right?"
Grace eagerly nodded.
"Okay. How about you get to buy one ice cream from The Ice Cream Man next time he comes. Then, Mom can help you buy ice cream from the Grocery Store. Then you can see for yourself the difference."
So, here is Grace's first successful purchase from the Mystical Ice Cream Man.
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