As it does every Thursday, as soon as it hits 3:00 PM, that familiar yet still eerie music starts playing from the edge of town.

At first listen, it sounds like typical commercial music made to grab kids' attention, using a worn-out chord progression that's been used a thousand times. But if you listen closely, it's quite unsettling.

There are these off-notes that deviate strangely from the harmony, bothering you like a hangnail, and the music repeats almost every five seconds. Ugh, listening to it for just five minutes would drive me crazy. If I were an employee on that truck, I definitely would have thrown off my apron and quit in less than an hour, let alone a day.

That's why normally, I'd stay lying on my bed like a corpse with my headset on and the volume turned all the way up until it passes, trying to ignore it. But today, I can't do that.

The reason is the demand of my proud younger sister, who set a new family record by shoving five scoops of cold cream down her throat in just one afternoon.

I grumble softly to myself as I grab my jacket and put it on.

If you ask why I'm allowing a child who's currently suffering from a severe cold because of ice cream to have more... I'd love to play you a 4K recording of my sister's screaming and crying tantrums.

Good grief, her body is so flushed she probably can't even use her voice properly. I have no idea how such a loud voice comes out of that tiny body. After she cried for a long time without stopping until the whole neighborhood could hear, both my parents and I finally waved the white flag. My sister must have swallowed a train whistle instead of ice cream.

Deciding to stop my useless complaining, I step out the front door.

I stand awkwardly in the line of children who don't even reach my chest, waiting for my turn while feeling out of place.