Thursday, May 04, 2006


Ian is truly a boy. He loves all things transportation. Planes, trains, motorcycles, wagons, cars, trucks. But his true love, at the moment anyway, is garbage trucks. Nothing will make his day like seeing a garbage truck. We'll be driving about the city listening to a CD of silly kids songs, when suddenly he'll scream out, "DARBAR TRUCK!" (Sometimes it comes out "diaper truck," which I think is totally approriate.) If I don't acknowledge this amazing sighting, he'll yell out even louder, "Mama, DARBAR TRUCK!" Of course, then I have to get just as excited and cheer, "Yea, garbage truck!" Glancing into the rear view mirror, I usually see his little leggies kicking and a huge smile spreading across his face.

Wednesdays are garbage pick up day. You can imagine what this does to Ian. We live in the middle of the neighborhood, so it takes a while for the truck to finally reach our house even though you hear it an hour beforehand. The slightest hint of a garbage truck and Ian is off and running towards the front windows screaming, "DARBAR TRUCK, DARBAR TRUCK!"

Well, yesterday was Wednesday, thus garbage truck day. Unfortunately, we were walking up the stairs at the very moment the truck was on our street. We tried to watch it through an arch window above the entry door, but alas the truck went by too fast. We hurried to Ian's room to see if we could catch a glimpse through his window, no luck. I left Ian in his room as I went to nurse Laurel. For a few minutes it was quiet, but then I could hear Ian cry out, "Come back. Come back, darbar truck. Come back. Come back, darbar truck, peas ("please" in Ianese)." I knew the truck would have to come back to pick up the garbage on the other side of the street and grant Ian his wish. Once I heard the truck again, I went into Ian's room to make sure he could see it. He was looking forlornly out his window. As the truck got closer, he got more and more excited. Then it happened, Ian's wish came true. The truck stopped across the street. Ian watched intently as it picked up the canister, dumped its contents into the back of the truck, and dropped the canister back onto the sidewalk. Ian excitedly jumped up and down yelling, "DARBAR TRUCK, MAMA, DARBAR TRUCK!" Of course he spent the rest of the day saying, "DARBAR TRUCK," and pointing out pictures of it in books and puzzles that he has.

Is there a possibility Ian will have a future job in public sanitation?


Mary P. said...

When my son was about that age, we lived within a few blocks of a fire station. The excitement of fire trucks racing by, sirens howling like mad, was the pinnacle of his very existence for some while. He didn't need to see them to be beside himself with delight.

I was less than thrilled when, after a 2 a.m. fire call, I heard the boy calling from his crib, "VIDER DRUX!! VIDER DRUX!!"

Thank good garbage trucks come in daylight hours...

Jennifer said...

Both my kids are fascinated with garbage trucks, and I'm grateful that the recycling truck is both driven and loaded by a woman, as my almost-five year old daughter regularly asks where the women truck drivers are. Hmmmm....good question! We also live near Boston's commuter rail, and so, like Mary P. above, I have woken up in the middle of the night to my son shouting out "choo choo all gone...." as he hears the train head out. Don't they remind us of all that we're missing when we're living so deeply in our heads???