When Davis was very young, maybe 18 months old, we would sit in our big red recliner by the big front window every Thursday morning and wait for the garbage truck to drive by. Once on the other side of the street, and once on our side. And every other week the recycle truck, which looks the same as the garbage truck, does the same thing. For about 9 months after Davis turned 2, he slept in (heaven for me!) and we missed the garbage truck. But then Noah came along and we are all up between 6:30 and 7:30 and both the boys have taken up the Thursday morning vigil.
A month or two ago, South Ogden got a new waste management disposal company, aka. garbage truck service. For years before that, we had the same woman driving the garbage truck. She always rolled her window down and waved really big at Davis. For a long time, he didn't wave back, but she kept on waving. Finally, Davis started waving back and he loved this little ritual with the garbage truck lady. But, alas, she has moved to other streets and with the new garbage trucks we got a new garbage truck driver. He picks up the garbage can quickly, plops it back down, willy-nilly in the middle of my driveway, and never even looks at our front window where Davis is waving, in hopes that the driver will wave back. He never has. And Davis turns around with a sad face and tells me the driver didn't wave back. Again. I think next week we will put a big sign in the window that says, "Look over here and wave!"
On another garbage-truck-related note - Noah can almost perfectly say the word, "garbage." He loves the truck as much as Davis, though he is not so sad about the waving situation. He just likes to watch it come and go. And yell unintelligible words at it.