In the interest of full disclosure, I was eating a pint of ice cream—well, gelato—when I received my weekly PSP digest, which was otherwise a lovely and harmless collection of stories about people getting help spying on their nannies using iPhone apps, or choosing the right Jewish day school, that read like an ever-so-slightly ethnic Nicholas Sparks novel. But when I got to the blast about the the ice cream incident, I pushed back my stracciatella in shame.

It all started when someone posting under the innocuous-enough pen name “Sarah” emailed the list serve with her plight: “We were at 9th Street playground... and two different people came into the actual playground with ice cream/Italian ice push carts... I left with a crying 4 year old because I would not let him get ice cream...” “Sarah” then wondered if the vendors were even legal, prompting a self-described “curmudgeon” named Crystal to opine, “We could list other illegal activities in the playgrounds... public urination, selling drugs... And yet... unlicensed food carts... are somehow more acceptable?”

Now, normally things named Crystal disagree with me—crystal meth, Crystal Pepsi, that natural deodorant that looks like the lovechild of a golf ball and Troy from Out of This World—but this one really struck a chord.

When I was coming of age in the early nineties, I wasn’t allowed to walk in Prospect Park alone due to the likelihood of running into a heroin pusher or a Crip; who knew it could get so much worse, so fast? That the sound of the Mister Softee jingle—a cloying riff on “Pop Goes the Weasel,” itself an incredibly threatening nursery rhyme when you think about it—would become tantamount to Peter Lorre’s creepy pedophilic whistling in M?

A lot of people have gotten upset over the suggestion that frozen treat purveyors should be outlawed from peddling their popsicles during spring and summer, their busiest seasons, and use this kerfuffle as yet another excuse to bash what one Gothamist commenter called Park Slope’s “whiny bitchass” parents.

Here, however, I must disagree. In fact, I’ll take it a step further. Why limit the ban to mobile carts? I can’t count how many times I pass Ample Hills Creamery, the popular ice cream spot on my corner, and flash forward to the day when my son will demand a cup of the small-batch brand’s “Salted Crack Caramel,” so named for the diabetes-courting mixture of saltines, butter, sugar and chocolate mixed in to the base flavor.

I’m already working with my life coach to prepare for the first time I’ll have to deny my child pleasure; to see his angelic little face redden, his rosebud lips twisting into a grimace as he experiences soul-shredding rejection for the first time.

But honestly, what about toy stores? Pet stores? Restaurants that carelessly leave Dixie cups full of tempting crayons out on their tables, forcing me to sternly remind my son that he is not the next Basquiat? What of the artisanal mayonnaise store opening mere blocks from my apartment? I shudder to think of a beautiful day of bonding ruined when my child stops in his tracks, hurls his ciabatta BLT to the sidewalk and pleads with me to buy him a tub of white-truffle mayo to bring out the flavor of the house-smoked heritage bacon. Oscar Wilde was so right when he wrote, “I can resist anything except temptation.” And it’s everywhere.

(Incidentally, to those judgmental dictators who implore, in the parlance of Nancy Reagan, that parents just say “no”: We don’t say “the N word” in my house. Instead we say, “Whatever would mean the most to you emotionally,” while making the sign language gesture for “freedom”.)

I think it’s interesting that the Hester Prynne of this urban fable, the PSP-er identified only as “Sarah,” limited her complaint to vendors in the playgrounds, when deep down we all know the playgrounds themselves are the real problem. How many times has a perfectly good walk in the park been sullied when a child stops short, unable to resist the siren song (banshee shriek is more like it) of the tire swing, that staph infection on chains that calls to mind something pulled out of the Tin Man’s rotting S&M dungeon. Or the mealy, festering sandbox? And don’t even get me started on slides. Did Chutes and Ladders teach us nothing? How will squeaking down a white-hot gauntlet of gnarled metal help my son get into Dalton?

For Christmas last year my father had the audacity to give my son the Fisher Price Chatter Telephone! In addition to confusing a post-millennial child with its obscenely large handset and alien rotary dial, its “pull cord” might as well have arrived from the factory tied in a noose.

Oh, and newsflash to the 16 people who gave the Play-Doh Fun Factory a five-star rating on Amazon: it’s not so “fun” for kids with celiac disease and a penchant for eating brightly-colored clay, or for young foodies who want to learn to make a decent hand-cut tagliatelle. Sheesh.

These things—these fripperies—may seem as harmless as a soft-serve cone, but as we now see, even that is a trauma waiting to happen.

And what of Sarah and Crystal’s inquiry as to whether the ice-cream vendor’s presence was legal? Turns out it’s not—Megan’s law does not have a Sno-Kone proviso. Look for a Park Slope Parents citizen’s arrest initiative soon.

This reaction did not go appreciated by Park Slope parents, and now, the keepers of the listserv have put a kibosh on any more discussion of the frozen dairy treats and their interloping purveyors:

"We are calling a HALT to all discussion of the ice cream thread and the responses it has received," reads a message sent out by the list's moderator. "For me the best news is that clearly there isn't any REAL news to cover or this wouldn't have received the coverage it did. It is time to focus on spring, holidays, vacations, and the great things our neighborhood has to offer."

The message went on to remind those who sign up for the Park Slope Parents list forwarding messages to the press is not allowed and that "our list is awesome."

Full message below:

Hey All,

We are calling a HALT to all discussion of the ice cream thread and the responses it has received. For me the best news is that clearly there isn't any REAL news to cover or this wouldn't have received the coverage it did. It is time to focus on spring, holidays, vacations, and the great things our neighborhood has to offer.

We do want to remind you that while this is a private group, it's a private group of thousands of people. While we'd like to think that everyone respects that privacy, we should know that we can't count on that. As we remind you in your joining agreement, belonging to PSP is contingent on respect for the privacy of your fellow members. Forwarding group or private messages to other people, websites, or blogs, without their expressed approval, is not allowed. Think before pressing 'send.' You should be willing to tell a person to their face what you are writing to them (within the spirit of community, in a kind and respectful way). Finally, the seeming anonymity of email should not be an excuse for incivility.

Our list is awesome. In the past week a woman posted about miscarriage and received an outpouring of support. People are getting help with their fences, go-karts camps, and assistance in talking to kids about where and how babies are made.  We're offering help to parents raising secular kids and dealing with religious families.  We'd be just as helpful with parents raising religious kids dealing with secular families.  So bring your issues, your dilemmas, your thoughts, your questions and your answers to PSP. We are a diverse, wonderful group of parents with lots of different perspectives!

Park Slope Parents

Demon spawn! (Mr. Softee Florida)

It's one thing to stop for a pomegranate frozen yogurt on the way home from the park, but Park Slope parents have had it with those ice cream trucks that are always lurking around the playground. (And no, this has nothing to do with boycotting Israel.)

In true Park Slope fashion, parents have taken to the infamous Park Slope Parents blog to air their grievances with the trucks, The New York Post reports. And rather than teaching kids to deal with temptations and master their impulses, parents would like those temptations removed. Now! Please.

“Along with the first truly beautiful day of the year, my son and I had our first ruined day at the playground,” one Mom posted on the blog, according to The Post. “Two different people came into the actual playground with ice cream/Italian ice push carts. I was able to avoid it for a little while but eventually I left with a crying 4-year-old.”

To make matters worse, some parents are actually patronizing these horrible trucks—setting off a chain reaction of demands from every other child.

Kicking the trucks to the curb—one located far, far away from their multimillion-dollar brownstone—would seem to be the only solution. But one mother, whom The Post quoted anonymously to protect her from playground reprisals, offered a controversial alternative—that parents say "no" to the whining and begging.

“I say no to him all the time, and I feel his wrath. But he needs to hear that no,” the woman said, describing her highly unorthodox  parenting methods.

kvelsey@observer.com