Let’s go back to last Saturday. My Someone was in Middle-of-Corn, Kansas, the weather was absolutely gorgeous, I had only filled the house with smoke once with Easter-prep cooking (as opposed to twice the night before.) — Basically the complete package of a perfect spring day.
My Someone and I were immersed in some really deep conversation, I couldn’t even tell you what about now, because suddenly I heard it.
The melody of my childhood heading towards my Middle-of-Corn, Kansas Hacienda.
Could it really be??
“ICCCCCCEEEEEEEE CREEEEAAAAMMMMMMM!!!!!!!!!!”I screamed.
Confusion spread over My Someone’s face as I bolted for the front door, and out on to the front porch.
The ice cream truck, was already past my house and heading towards the main road, with an entire herd of offspring trailing behind it, whom he was obviously not going to stop for.
“Drat, we need money. And we need to chase down that truck,” I stated, getting ready to take off running.
“WHAT?! Why?!? Really?!?!” Was all My (very confused/startled) Someone could say.
Well, all this stalling, explaining the battle plan to my counterpart through off the entire mission. The ice cream truck had made it to the end of my street, and with that I watched my frozen bliss twinkle it’s beautiful melodies off into the distance.
It was there, our very different upbringings came rising to the surface. You see, my rural raised, farm-grown boyfriend had never experienced the wonderfulness that is “The Ice Cream Truck.” While my New Orleans/Tulsa suburbs childhood was straight up Sesame Street, complete with sideways ball cap and ice cream truck chasing.
So after some explaining, we’re on the same page. And friends, for the sake of all y’all’s relationships, have the ice cream talk. Establish who is the truck chaser and who is the money gatherer. I mean, because really, these are the types of things that can make or break you.
Dani's Dirt 
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