"DING, DING, DING, DING," repeat until you go crazy. This is the ice cream truck. Madeline is a sucker for the ice cream truck. He drives by our house so slowly, so very slowly. It's guaranteed if Madeline is inside she sprints outside, and if she's outside she burns rubber coming inside to get her money.
She's very generous, too. Invariably her friends in the neighborhood end up with some popsicle. Grandpa gives her a small stipend for ice cream money.
However, this is all changing. She's saving her money for a "Hannah Montana" outfit from the store and with her heart goes her treasure also, but the Ice Cream Truck is still so attractive, it's obviously difficult to contain the urge, or to quell the habit of getting these sweets.
Frustrated with it all one day she said, "That Ice cream man," she said exasperated, "I'm not going to buy from him. Why does he keep coming?" she said with half-clenched teeth. "I'm not buying anything from him."
"Can I have a lemonade stand? If I hear him coming I could setup a lemonade stand, and then I could ask the Ice Cream Man if he wants to buy some lemonade for three dollars." She started laughing to herself about that idea.
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