On high alert near dinner time
The children long to hear
Pop Goes the Weasel softly chimes
It is that time of year

The little kiddies drop their games
And stop dead in mid frolic
And pull their mothers hands and hair
Demanding them their wallet

Tears will come down from their eyes
They’re sure to make a scene
If their demands are not met to
Procure some cheap ice cream

A choco taco ice cream waffle
Sundae in a cup
A Creamsicle, a Popsicle
A Rocket Blast, Push Up

The children fidget, cry and pout
Threaten to kill and worse
As their parents hunt for cash
While muttering a curse

But in my house twas no such luck
My mother did believe
Unhealthy junk to make me fat
But first to rot my teeth

I’d watch a Spongebob disappear
Chipwich become no more
And pray that every flavored ice
Would end up on the floor

For every Drumstick licked to nought
And Dixie Cup’s dead end
But it was not enough for me
I had to have revenge

Yet nothing was so clever as
The fate that I had planned
A plot for ultimate control
I’d BE the ice cream man

And slow down in each neighborhood
As children sang and danced
All so anxious for their treats
With ants in their pants

And see the looks upon their face
As in my truck I’m slowing
I bite into a lemon cup
And then I just keep going


70 thoughts on “ICE CREAM!!!!

    • Yes, I suppose that could have been another angle to take…that the ice cream was dirty or contaminated….then I would have to get into the whole food poisoning bit…and by then readers would have probably been on to another blog!

  1. My husband’s father was an ice cream man through much of his childhood. BH remembers working the truck with him all summer long and can, to this day, regale you with the pros and cons of all those treats. My mother was too…..”frugal”, shall we say, and when the ice cream truck would come, she’d pull out those Tupperware popsicle forms with frozen orange juice in them. It just wasn’t the same!

    • I bet there are some great stories and ice cream truck driver can tell. Now that the weathers warmer there there’s a guy that comes down our block every day around 5. I’m usually out with my daughter then and he just slows down and kind of stalks us. Unfortunately for my daughter, it’s too close to dinner time and, yes, frugality plays a part as well!!

  2. hahaha! The evil ice cream lady! I love it! The ice cream truck is rolling through our neighborhood again. 3 spongebob sherberts for 9 dollars.

  3. In the Philippines, we call ’em dirty ice cream. Just a man with a cart – not truck- full of homemade ice cream. Have tried it only once or twice. My mom forbade us to buy again. She thought we were lucky not to have contracted anything from it. Now in the US, we tried the ice cream truck here, will never have one again. Nothing we liked. Will just have to be content with supermarket ice cream!

    • Yeah, I would definitely question the sanitary conditions of any ice cream truck or cart and I do agree that the quality of ice cream is rarely very good. Also, they don’t usually have chocolate ice cream and I am a chocoholic. I think I was once pleasantly surprised by getting a nice sized cup of pure chocolate from a cart but I also rarely buy from the vendors.

  4. Just so you know, it isn’t cheap ice cream. My kid hears that bell it he becomes one of Pavlov’s dogs. And he wants to buy a stupid treat for $5, that would normally cost us a dollar. Evil ice cream man.

    • Yes, from what I’ve been reading, the ice cream prices seem to have gone up. I rarely buy but I think the last time I did it was only $1 or $2. Actually, when I wrote cheap in the poem, I was referring more to quality.

      • Like I pay attention to the context of things in other people’s words? I barely pay attention to grammar in my own. Perhaps it has been since you were a kid the last time you bought Ice cream from a truck.

  5. You’re a cruel woman young Marissa…mind my parents were so poor the closest I got to ice cream when they gave me a chipped enamel mug of snow when it snowed…didn’t snow a lot. Yours sincerely, The Shah of Persia Forgotten Love Child, Baghdad

  6. Th revenge of the ice cream mother monster or How ice cream devoured the world,there has to be another poem in this,I love it M,oh the ice cream is so delightful,but the driver is so frightful,but we just mite have to let him know……….. He’s fired,or just given another route

  7. That is one evil looking truck!! Anyone with clown issues would have nightmares for days πŸ˜‰

    My only experience with an ice cream truck was when we bought our first house. The only time Gilles or I had ever seen an ice cream truck going through a neighbourhood was in a movie. We were like little kids the first time it came by and we were absolutely hooked. They did the soft ice cream – vanilla or chocolate – then dipped in chocolate. How lucky were we?! … it stopped right by our house!! It got to the point where we would sit on the front step with our money in hand waiting for it.

    When we eventually moved, we missed the ice cream truck more than anything. Perhaps it’s just as well … “Unhealthy junk to make me fat” was written for me!! πŸ˜‰

    • That’s funny! An ice cream truck that actually has a soft serve machine inside it is rare. You were probably getting higher quality than most. I don’t blame you for waiting outside for it every day. We have one that comes by every day in our neighborhood and the driver stalks us hoping we will buy ice cream. Haven’t bought one off him yet although that doesn’t stop my daughter from asking EVERY SINGLE DAY!!!

  8. Oh the memories! This was a wonderful poem that brought back a lot of good memories. I once lived in a neighborhood overpopulated with children. I have theories about the cause and effect but truly the worst effect was the ice cream man just drove straight to our neighborhood, sold out, and left all us little kids in the back of the crowd standing there with money and no ice cream. It was a ruthless lesson in the failed theory of just in time logistics. Thankfully, my mother was over endowed with compassion and she would muscle her way to the front and get the goods. She was only five foot tall and some of the older kids thought they could mug her for the handful of Nutty Buddies and fudge bars. They learned early about messin’ with momma bears with cubs. It was strange growing up where older kids are nice to you because they fear your mother. πŸ™‚

  9. We used to listen out for Mr. Whippy and always chose a ’99’ if we were lucky. Good old Mr. W is still around and the kids haven’t changed.

  10. I still scour the aisles of my grocery store’s ice cream department, hoping I can find my favorite ice cream truck treat. It was called a Bombstick and had banana ice cream book ended by chocolate ice cream. I think I was permanently hypnotized by “Pop Goes The Weasel”.

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