Entry for June, 28 2007

We have an ice cream van in our estate and I am mightily pleased.
Ah - how I love thee ice cream van, with your metallic and slightly distorted chimes that awake within me a Pavlovian reaction. As I hear your chimes I find myself distracted from section 9(1)(b) of the Family Law (Scotland) Act. I begin to salivate, and then I run around the house frantically looking for loose change. I must be quick - for I know that the ice cream man is a transitory man. He is like Brigadoon, but with a better choice of confectionary. If I do not find £1.80 quickly, I will be left standing in the middle of the road shouting heavanward: "For the love of God why didn't you wait ice cream man. All I wanted was an oyster and a ninety nine - BUT YOU WOULDN'T WAIT!!!!!"
But tonight I am fast. I find two little pound coins deep inside the recesses of Mrs B's handbag, and then - as tradition dictates - I quickly slip on the nearest footwear and I run up the road. Me and all the eight year olds - them in their heelies, me in a pair of fluffy pink flip flops. We are entranced - drawn like rats by the pied piper and his promises of hardened arteries and early onset diabetes.
I am on time!
Oh Mr Whippy, in the desert that lies between dinner and the bedtime snack, thou truly art the messiah.