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When I was growing up, a neighbor who lived down the block did most of her grocery shopping from The Schwan's Man.

And all of the kids in the neighborhood were fascinated by the fact that she bought food off a truck. Many a game of Kick The Can was interrupted when that big yellow truck roared around the corner and we would all run to her house to see what she was going to buy. And she bought it all.

She got pizza, ice cream, meats, pastries - you name it. I remember being so fascinated that she always had pizza - in the freezer! We always got our pizza from a local mom & pop pizzeria in town. (I still miss that place) And any other form of pizza in our house came on top of an English muffin. So pizza in the freezer - whoa. That was big stuff.

So one day The Mother was visiting The Neighbor on Schwan's day and Mr. Schwan was a slick salesman. The Mother's curiosity was peaked. She had heard that Schwan's brand ice cream was delicious so she decided to give it a shot.

Mr. Schwan's was excited at the prospect of a new customer so he took The Mother's information and gave her Reminder Stickers to put on her calendar at home. The ice cream was delicious and we were excited to see Mr. Schwan's come the next month.

And the next month The Mother bought more ice cream and added a few other items to her list. The mother had a problem saying the word "No" so when Mr. Schwan's would tell her about a new product and throw in a little blurb about his son Timmy and wanting to buy him a new bike, The Mother would be so kind and buy a few more things she really didn't need or want. But it was fine, we enjoyed the food and The Mother felt good about helping Mr. Schwan's out.

Until about month 4 when The Mother told Mr. Schwan's she didn't need anything. Mr. Schwan's was stunned. "What do you mean you don't need anything?"

"Well", the mother said. "I just don't need anything. We've got plenty of ice cream and we're doing good on everything else."

"No - but I will see you next month."

That's when Mr. Schwan's turned in to the Food Peddler from Hell. He wasn't mean or nasty but his sales tactics rivaled that of every polyester wearing used car salesman on Earth. But The Mother wouldn't budge.

So he told her he would be back in two weeks - he would catch her on the tail end of his other route. She told him it wouldn't be necessary but he wasn't taking no for an answer. And as he promised two weeks later to the hour he was knocking on our door and this time he was prepared to play hardball - he had a stack of frozen pizzas under his arm.

But The Mother - seemingly spurred by insanity or just complete stubborness - said no.

I was standing behind her in the kitchen and nearly screamed, "For the love of God, woman, IT'S PIZZA!! Just buy the pizza!!" I did everything I could short of that to get her attention but she wasn't buying my sales pitch - or his. And I felt really bad for Mr. Schwan's and I felt even more bad for myself. I wanted that damn pizza.

And two weeks after that he came back. Only this time The Mother wasn't in the mood to say no so she didn't go to the door. So Mr. Schwan's walked around to the front door and rang the bell and when that didn't work he actually peeked in our living room window and knocked on that. That's when I stopped feeling sorry for Mr. Schwan's and began to find him flat out creepy.

So the next month we were gone when Mr. Schwan's made his normal stop so he left a note that he would be back. And at 9:30 that night there was a knock on the door. The Father answered and told Mr. Schwan's that we didn't need anything and that there was no need to stop anymore unless we called.

But two weeks later he was back. And this time The Mother and I were eating luch at the kitchen table and when we hear his truck pull up to the curb, "Get Down! It's The Schwan's Man!", and with that The Mother pulled me under the kitchen table like we were preparing for a tornado.

"Mom, why are we under the table?"

"Yes. And I know I am teaching you a bad lesson but when you are older you will understand. But for right now, just don't move until he's gone."

And with that I started to giggle. I thought my mother had completely lost her mind and it was funny as Hell. And then The Mother started laughing and we sat under that table laughing uncontrollably until his truck pulled away.

And you know, he never came back. And I am so grateful. Because I was worried we would end up in the Witness Protection Program.

So cut to a couple days ago when I was having coffee with a friend on her patio. I heard a large truck pull in to her driveway and she said, "Oh good, he's here. I will be right back, I need my wallet." And before I could ask who 'he' was, around the corner came The Schwan's Man. Not the same man of my youth, of course, but the uniform and truck are stil the same.

And I couldn't help myself and I started to giggle. And the giggle turned in to a Throw-My-Head-Back laugh. I tried to play it off as something I had just read in the magazine sitting in front of me but I don't think I convinced anyone. The Friend looked at me funny and The Schwan's Man shifted uncomfortably on his feet.

Out of sheer guilt I asked Mr. Schwan's for a catalog to browse through to which he excitedly obliged. I ordered about $40 worth of food hoping to make up for the laughter and hiding under the table all those years ago. But when he asked me if I wanted to set up an account and get on his route, I politely declined.

Guilt and stupidity are two entirely different beasts.

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