Time Warp

     Every afternoon the ice cream truck passes our house—announcing itself with familiar melodies. In fact listening to the tunes is akin to being in a time warp. Years ago an ice cream truck came down Ainsley Road and almost every youngster responded to the music. Now I visit the ice cream emporium and order a flavor in a cup.

     One of these days I’m going to go running out of the house and order the Strawberry Shortcake or the ice cream sandwich or maybe the Orange Dream Bar.