The Ice Cream Truck

Over at the house, Collette discussed the outrageous income taxes placed on the upper middle class with Francis and Linnea, while Puck giggled over his discovery of Francis’ scientific calculator.
As usual, when Puck wanted to be picked up, he would run over to Collette and say, “Coo, Mama, coo?”
And when he fell or knocked himself on something, he would hurry over with a, “Hurt, Mama? Hurt?”
Collette would give him a kiss on the offended appendage, and then he would smile and return to his play.
“It’s like a recharge,” Francis said, with a laugh.
Meanwhile, the Odyssey was out of commission, making some rather unusual screaming sounds as Joe drove it to the dealership for some work. The transmission had blown after nearly nine years of rough wear and tear from half a million Boy Scout events, choir, baseball, basketball, youth group, and other things…
Around lunchtime, the chimes and music box of the ice cream truck could be heard rolling through the “new subdivision”, which was hardly new any longer.
Linnea’s sweet-tooth ears immediately picked up on this development. She came crashing into the kitchen with a small handful of dollar bills.
“I have to go help the economy!” she cried, as she raced across the lawn to the waiting truck.
She returned with a chocolate bar for herself and a bomb pop for Francis. She proceeded to freeze-glue her lips to the ultra-frozen chocolate bar while Francis talked about one of his “dreams” of hijacking an ice cream truck, eating all of the ice cream, and leaving a hundred dollar bill for the driver.