Today is Monday. Trash day on our road. The trash is typically taken out Sunday night so that we don’t miss the trash truck. At our house, the trash can is filled to overflowing by Sunday night, we can’t risk missin the trash truck.
We’re doing school and I just heard the truck go by. It seemed that I’m the only one that heard it. I was overcome with tears (I’m blaming it on lingering effects of the flu) and memories.
It used to be that the kids waited on Monday morning for the trash truck to come by. As soon as they heard it, they were off to the windows and then out the door to watch extra close. We made friends with the trash guys. The kids took turns taking them drinks every week and sometimes brownies. At Christmas we gave them little gifts and at Thanksgiving we wrote them thank you notes.
I always told the kids that they had what we honk of as a yucky, stinky job but without them, our yard and neighborhood would be yucky and stinky!
Today when the trash truck went by and I reminded them of how they used to get so excited, they just smiled at me. Like I was a crazy, emotional woman. Luckily, Samuel wasn’t here. He had driven himself to his biology class.
Time passes, oh so quickly!