Trash
Perhaps it is just my little boy, but maybe there are others out there. You see today is Monday. Monday is the day that our trash is set out to be picked up by the folks who have the joy of taking it all away. Today also happens to be our recycle day as well (the pickup schedule is every other week for us). For some reason when Quin is waking up in his crib, he usually hears the first recycle truck come by. This prompts him to begin saying, “trash, trash” when I first go in to get him ready for the day. This is followed by his asking to see outside. Of course, by this time, the recycle truck is long gone, but Quin never gives up hope.
I’m not sure what is so appealing about watching a garbage truck drive down the road. But I will tell you that Quin has refused to eat breakfast until he sees the trash truck. As I type, he is hunched in front of the window peering out and waiting. (I slid the ottoman over in front of the window just so he could watch and wait.) I wonder if our trash guy knows how exciting his job is to my two-year old boy? The highlight is when the front loader gets full and the driver hits the button to lift it all and dump it into the back. Quin goes absolutely nuts about that.
Since we are expecting a second boy, I guess Quin will have to make some room on that ottoman for his brother to watch this exciting event.