The Irreverent Psychologist

The music the ice cream truck plays always brings back such fond summer memories. Heading it's call far off in the distance, I remember those lucky times my parents gave me a dollar and I scampered off and got some kind of frozen concoction (my favorite was the frozen yogurt shaped like a foot with a gum ball in the big toe).

Is the a random thought for the day? Sort of. I heard the siren call of the ice cream truck today. I looked out my window and couldn't resist capturing an image of the truck.

What were they thinking?