Spopsicle

You need the background story to fully appreciate why Edison was so excited to be eating this Fudgesicle.

Toward the beginning of the summer Edison heard the ice cream truck driving though the neighborhood, and in traditional Edison style asked, "what's that sound?"

We explained to him about the Ice Cream Man, a roving truck where you could give the man money, say "popsicle please," and get a popsicle in return. We also promised that if the ice cream man stopped on our block that we would experience this form of pospsicle-buying for ourselves.

Since then, the Ice Cream Man has been Edison's Moby-Dick. In at least five encounters the sound of the truck has been close enough to touch, but has eluded us. Each time we heard the truck Edison would go into an excited frenzy. "Ice Cream Man! Ice Cream Man!"

In the closest encounter the truck actually drove in front of our house, but by the time we had scrambled some money together he was at the end of the block. Even though we screamed and waved for him, he didn't see us and drove away. I (Dad) jumped in my car and tried to chase him down, but lost him.

In each close encounter Edison has been disappointed, but completely mature about his disappointment, agreeing that we would "find him next time." Determined not to deprive my son of the excellent experience of being able buy a popsicle from the Ice Cream Man during the summer I even promised him, "we will find the ice cream truck this summer" and even added a task in my PDA to "contact ice cream truck company and enquire about routes."

Then, on Sunday it happened. Our friends Tod and Andrea had cooked us a delicious meal and ironically we were all eating some ice cream for desert. The music-box song of the ice cream truck was clear as day, and Edison starts screaming "Ice Cream Man! Ice Cream Man!"

I swooped Edison up and ran outside, but we couldn't see the truck. Edison ran back inside and grabbed a single penny from his piggy bank.

"I've got money!" he said.

I grabbed a handful of dollar bills and Tod joined us outside again. I sprinted, with Edison in my arms to the northern end of Golden Court where there were some kids playing in the street.

"Have you guys seen the ice cream truck?" I asked. They all pointed eastward where about four blocks away... there was the ice cream truck.

Edison and I started yelling at him at the top of our lungs. "Ice Cream Man! Ice Cream Man!" He was laughing hysterically and saying "Found him! Found him!" We started making our way toward him, but yet again he headed down a cross-street. He didn't hear us.

About two block down I was starting to lose hope as we couldn't hear the music anymore, and I was already preparing my consolation speech for Edison. But then the "ding ding ding-ding ding ding-ding-ding ding" started getting louder, and on the corner of 49th and Depew we found ourselves face-to-face with the actual, honest-to-goodness Ice Cream Man.

The next exchange was priceless. Edison asked for a chocolate "spopsicle" and handed the man a penny. I supplemented the investment with an additional couple of dollars and before you knew it, we had an already melting Fudgesicle in hand. Edison kept talking about the experience on the relatively long walk home.

And, in another demonstration of beyond-his-years self control, Edison was perfectly OK with putting his Fudgesicle in the freezer to save until the following day (since we had already just eaten ice cream).

So, this picture was taken the next day, after lunch. The smile on Edison's face represents not only the chocolaty, sugary sweet taste of the Fudgesicle, but the sweet taste of success...