One of life’s big thrills for Sean since he was a little bitty guy has been watching the trash truck. On trash day we listen for the growl and grind of the big truck to alert us to their impending arrival and then we run to the front windows to watch the beauty and magic of waste management.
Last week, Sean was busy playing in the den and didn’t hear the truck, so I excitedly called him to the front windows.
“Sean! Look! Here comes the trash truck!” I enthused.
He ambled into the dining room and with his hands on his hips. He watched the garbage men hoist our refuse on to the truck and then drive away. When they were out of sight, he turned to me with an expression of pity and boredom and said evenly and sarcastically, “Well, isn’t that neat? [you simple simple easily amused woman]”
And then he ran off to attend to more esoteric matters.
The thrill of the trash truck might be gone for him, but not for me. I know what’s in those bags.