Wednesday, October 26, 2011
Ice Cream, You Scream
The ice-cream man selling my son Oliver a plastic toy gun and pellets really resonated with a lot of you on Sunday when I posted about it. The whole situation was actually more humorous to me than scary, though, which my writing apparently didn't convey, so I thought I should clarify a bit. We live close to a huge public park and last Friday night, Henry played flag football for his school at the park. Oliver came along to watch, of course, and during the game asked if he could have money for ice-cream. At our city parks, people with small freezer carts roll around, selling ice-cream and toys and balloons. Yes, it's a bummer that the ice-cream man would sell a potentially dangerous toy, but these guys are pretty desperate anyway -- they're going to sell what sells, right? They're making their living selling ice-cream and plastic shit. I believe it was my responsibility to forbid the purchase of that toy -- just as it would be my responsibility to forbid my kids to buy crappy candy or McDonald's for that matter -- and Oliver totally and completely did this on the sly because he knows I wouldn't have approved.
So I'm giving the ice-cream man a break and claiming this one as my own -- and Oliver's bad!