Mr. Ding-A-Ling

So, my battle with the deadly allergies is over. I fought the good fight, but eventually decided to listen to mom and go to the doctor. He prescribed Loritab. It is a super tiny pill, and yet it packs a powerful punch! I feel as good as new.
The other day I heard the unmistakable sound of an ice cream truck coming down our street. It was playing The Yellow Rose of Texas. I looked out the window just in time to see the truck pass by the house. Guess what our local ice cream peddler calls himself? Mr. Ding-A-Ling. Yes, that's right. Mr. Ding-A-Ling. Now maybe I am being a little juvenile here, but as the mother of a young child there is NO WAY that I am sending my daughter out to buy ice cream from a man who calls himself by this name. Suspiciously there are no pictures of Popsicles or ice cream cones on the truck either. Very weird.
Kacey turned 5 on May 20th. We took her and her best friend Matt to Applebee's for dinner, then we came home and had cake and ice cream (no, it was not purchased from Mr. Ding-A-Ling). She got a great big trampoline from Nanny and Pappy and lots of Barbie stuff for her Barbie dream house. I bought her some summer clothes, which she really needed. She told me that clothes are not good Birthday presents. She gets all the fun presents from Nanny and Pappy and Aunt Hillary, and I am happy to buy the socks, underwear, and books.