The Jumbo Gyppy

We had a family reunion recently and had such fun. It was basically just the 11 kids, spouses, and grand kids with my Dad at the park. But it was our park, across the street. Only our park has grown up too and looks nothing like we remembered. I'm telling you it went in for the tummy tuck, the face lift and the nose job. The playground, the pool, the building, the tennis courts had all been completely ripped out and rebuild. Looking back across the street to our house and neighbors the transformations was about as remarkable. I grew up on a cookie cutter street where 8 out of 10 houses were the same. Now they had different porches, siding and windows and didn't match my memories. All but one had been updated. So three things looked the same on that side of the street: The Macks, our birch trees, and the fire hydrants. But it is still sitting across the street from the old homestead. Dad likes to call that the orphanage.

During our cloudy and sprinkling off and on reunion we heard the ice cream truck go by the orphanage and a whole set of stories came out. According to my dad, one day a man asked to park in front of the house and was a bit apologetic about it. To be nice he offered to buy ice cream for the kids. So my dad smiled and said sure. He called into the house and out popped 11 kids who had just been offered free ice cream. Now that is expensive parking. Sister Mary 1 was recalling how the truck used to be a Jumbo Ice cream truck, and my Dad thought it was a gyp. So they became the Jumbo Gyppy in my family. I don't really remember calling it that. But all memories are not shared as the generations move through a big family. As one of the littles, I can remember talking an older sister or brother into treating or talking Mom into opening her mad money purse in the kitchen cabinet to splurge on ice cream. I do remember begging to work with the ice cream man and riding with another friend in the back and fetching the ice cream for half a day or something that approximated an eternity. I was cured of work for quite awhile after that.

I suppose I will share one more Ice Cream Truck story. My kids once heard one coming and began the begging for money. Now with 5 kids, we don't always have a lot of cash to spare. In fact, why do the kids now always have more cash than I do? But this was before all that. So I simply told my little Buck and Half Buck that when the music was playing, they were out of icecream. Horrible I know. Thankfully they've forgotten. But God bless the sister that won't let me live it down : )