I Miss the Mess of Summer

We've finally had our first taste of fall-ish weather the past few days, and I'm already a bit nostalgic for summer.  Don't get me wrong, I love these cool, crisp days and these mid-fall sunrises are breathtaking.  But cooler weather means we have to add many extra minutes to our get-out-of-the-door routine because of the need for socks and jackets.  (I took 3 kids out by myself two different times today so I know what I'm talking about, people.)  No more just throwing on flip flops and hopping outside.

All right, back to my point: summer.  And how much I love it.  I thought I'd share with you one of my favorite memories from this summer....the day we said "yes" to the ice cream truck.  First, you have to know that I basically have a hate-hate relationship with the ice cream truck.  Ok, ok, we don't use the word "hate" around here, so let's say "strongly dislike".  The truck starts coming around entirely too early (like February) and then never seems to leave the neighborhood until September.  I'm not even sure how our kids found out the truck sold ice cream because we tried to keep them blissfully ignorant for as long as possible.  I knew that once we bought ice cream from the truck, the driver would probably come park in front of our house and drive us batty with that "music" every time he came back to the neighborhood.

Well, one gorgeous evening near the end of July we walked the kids over to the neighborhood park and decided to let them have an ice cream treat.  If we bought the ice cream at the park, we reasoned, the driver wouldn't know where we lived.   So sneaky, I know.  But we really, really don't want to be stalked by the ice cream truck. 

Without further ado, here's what happens when 3 of the 500 Babies eat ice cream on a summer evening (with extra-large photos so you can relive the experience right along with me!)...

So many flavors!  So many varieties!  What's a child to do?  Don't worry, kids.  The truck is sold out of Dora and chocolate crunch, and just about everything else we asked for, so it's Spiderman bars all around.

 Mmm...good.  So far so yummy.

 Ahh...this is the life.

Easy does it, Daniel.  I see that bit of red on your nose and hint of blue on your lip. Be careful!

 Uh-oh, we have drippage.

 And more drippage...
             

Even Joe is not immune to the drippage. (Notice how the colors of his ice cream almost blend perfectly with the stripes on his shirt.  Cool!)

                  

Now take note of the status of each child's treat.  Dan's is still fully intact, Joe's is missing a couple of bites, and Mikea's is a chomp or two from being finished off completely.

 Hey Dan, I like your sticky beard!

Eww...dripping icky madness!  And that poor whale shirt has never been the same since.

At this point in the game we heard the rumble of thunder of an approaching storm so we quickly wiped up the kids and hightailed it home.  You don't think we would ever leave the house without wipes, do you?  (Oh wait. There was that one time when we went to the park and one of the children left an explosive mess on the slide.  Mmm-hmmm.  Yep.  That really happened to us.  And we had no wipes.  None.  But luckily for the rest of the park-goers we did have paper towels in the van.)

The ice cream experience was horrifyingly messy, yes, yes it was. But this is exactly what summer is all about, my friends, and one of many reasons why I miss it already!  Don't you?