“Mama, I hear the ice cream truck outside,” Raven would say every time the musical sounds whizz by on our street. But the truck is pretty hard to flag down when it’s running at 30-40km/hr. You pretty much have to chase it. Or wait for it to come back around and you’re lucky if it does.

But today we got lucky. Because today we finally caught the ice cream truck guy!

“HEY ICE CREAM!” Jeff shouted. It helps that he has such a booming voice, too.

So while he scrambled about the house looking for loose change, Raven hastily put her shoes on before running out that I literally had to grab her to slow her down because getting run over by oncoming car while crossing the road to buy ice cream is simply anticlimactic, not to mention a horrendous event I can’t even bear to think but need to have the foresight for, for safety’s sake.

“Which one do you like, babe?” Jeff asked her.

I knew which one she liked because she told me they had ice cream on her last day in kinder and she loved it so much she said she wished she could eat it forever and ever:

vanilla ice cream with sprinkles on top.

You should’ve seen how she tried to scoop every last melted bit of it out of her cup.

“Raven, you’re not eating the cup too, are you?” I joked.

By the looks of it, she would if she could.

*Raven at 5 years old