An old ice cream truck is feeling left out among the newer, flashier models.
Scoop has been selling vanilla ice cream for many, many summers. But things are changing. Now, as he winds his way down his familiar route, he passes trendy sushi restaurants and organic grocery stores. There are newer ice cream trucks on the street as well: gaudy ones, with bright colors and exclusive flavors. “Nobody wanted a little vanilla cone anymore.” Dejected, Scoop drives to a quiet street to rest. He dreams of woodlands and mountains far away from the changing neighborhood, until a red ball bounces off his side. A tiny tot with pale skin and stubby brown pigtails wants to play. Scoop decides to call her Spunky, gives her a cone, and they have fun. But the other trucks hear their laughter and swoop in, not wanting to miss an untapped customer base. The little girl is dazzled by the explosion of options. Scoop decides he needs an upgrade. He goes to the Dodgy Wheels Garage and comes out with flashing lights, more flavors, and a new name: Scoop Supreme. But his old frame can’t handle all of the changes and he slowly whistles to a stop. In a slightly baffling conclusion, since Spunky’s adults are never present, Scoop and the tot find a new way to be together in the mountains. Keeler’s paintings have a gloppy abandon that suits their sticky subject.
A market-driven economy lesson, with friendship squeezed in, too. (Picture book. 4-7)