Growing up, the only time we ever got to enjoy treats from an ice cream truck was when we took a trip to my aunt’s place down at Wildwood Crest. Each day around 1:00 you’d hear that unmistakable music as it worked its way up the street, and we’d beg for change and run to the corner, eagerly awaiting its arrival.

This evening we heard that familiar sound just as we were finishing dinner, Silent Night blaring through the loudspeaker. My husband is such a kid. “Do you want one?” he asked excitedly, hoping I’d say yes. And of course I couldn’t say no :)  You scream, we scream, we all scream for ice cream!