A few weeks ago I wrote about a bit of ice-cream-truck prevarication in which my husband and I engage with our children. You can read that story here for the context for this update.
I thought the jig was up this afternoon when my son said, “Mommy! I hear the ice cream truck!”
“Not the music truck?” I asked.
“No, the ice cream truck!” he said, looking out the window for it.
“What does an ice cream truck do?”
“It plays music!”
Safe for a little longer.