Mom's Craving

"Hey, do me a favour," Mom called out.

"Sure, what?"

"I'm craving ice-cream. I hear the truck coming. Get me some?"

"I'm doing you a flavour of a favour!" I quipped. Putting a sweater on over my pajamas, I asked, "Which flavour, by the way?"

"Um - I dunno. Butterscotch?"

"Second choice, if they're out of buttersoctch?"

"They aren't out of butterscotch."

"How do you know?"

I had put on my shoes and was heading out the door. How did she know that they weren't out of butterscotch? I wanted mint, and if they were out of that, I'd have strawberry.

There was always a crowd around the ice cream truck, but it seemed larger than usual today. I looked around. Everyone from our apartment house was there. My cousin, who lived two streets away, was there. Why? She could buy ice cream closer home. Some people had cameras, or had their smartphones out, ready to click photos.

The truck drew closer.

A chef's hat poked out of the window, followed by ...

DAD ... ?

Dad?

Flashbulbs popped in my face, and the people with smartphones had come closer, to catch my expression. I looked around, My gaze happened to go up. Mom was watching from our window, laughing and clapping.

"I know which flavour you want, young lady. You want one butterscotch for my wife, and one mint for yourself."

"Yes." I held out some money.

"You are 50p short, but I'll give you a discount, I'm in a generous mood today."

"It's your money anyway," I giggled suddenly.

"Yeah right. Now, enjoy your ice cream, and get that to your mother before it melts. Next customer, please ...!"


(PS - My Dad was soda jerk at Tom Crumpler's in California in 1953 or thereabouts. He also sold ice cream off a cart, giving discounts to kids who couldn't pay and making up the difference himself though he was saving his own money.)
(PPS - Dad has also acted in a TV commercial as an ice cream seller)