garbage trucks

One Man’s Trash is Another Man’s Treasure

Daniel’s interests have switched from trains to garbage trucks in a major way. He always liked garbage trucks along with his trains, but now he plays with them more than his trains (um…what to do with the train table in our living room?).

I get it. Garbage trucks are big and have huge, moving parts. There is a lot of variety (so I’m learning) in how they pick up garbage, their shape and their color. Even better, they are more accessible than trains to his daily life.  Every day is garbage day for some house in our neighborhood of 300 houses.  Our county doesn’t provide garbage service, so each household selects its waste management company independently.  As a result, there are many different types of garbage trucks and garbage cans for Daniel to see every day.

Daniel can identify the sound of a rumbling garbage truck before I register that something is coming down the street.  Many times I have heard him shout, “garbage truck” and run to raise the blind on the window so he can look out.

We’ve given Daniel a few chores to do and by far, his favorite is to help his daddy take the garbage out to the curb. Wednesday may be our garbage day, but Tuesday means that when we get home, he must help roll the can to the curb.  He does it joyfully, grinning from ear to ear.

I told Daniel he could grow up to drive a garbage truck, but he looked at me as if I were teasing him. I don’t think he believes me.

Being a boy mom has altered how I perceive the world, and I find wonder in so many things I used to scorn before or simply not notice. Including garbage trucks.

For now, at 4, taking out the trash is fun for him. We’ll see if he still feels the same way at 14.

Garbage Can

Garbage Can

Memories Captured

Memories Captured: Garbage

Listening intently

Yesterday we braved the chilly air and went outside to play.  We heard a truck coming, and you said, “garbage truck!”  I replied, “No, it’s not a garbage truck,” but when I turned around, I saw that it in fact was a garbage truck.  I grabbed your hand, and we walked to the end of the driveway to watch the garbage truck pick up our neighbor’s garbage. You were enraptured and grinned the entire time.

Sweet Boy, you have taught me so much. When I see the world through your eyes, I see things differently.  You have taught me that garbage and garbage trucks are beautiful because you love them. You’ve also taught me that weeds like dandelions are as beautiful as roses because to you, they are just pretty yellow flowers and not a judgment on our lawn maintenance.