Garbage Day Isn't As Much Fun As It Used To Be

I know what you are thinking. How can garbage day be filled with so much joy? Isn't it about just getting rid of the stuff that you think is useless, that no one in his/her right mind would actually want? Last night's meat loaf to the broken light bulb find a resting place in our garbage can. But the act of picking up the garbage was met with pure joy in the Watson household. We watch YouTube videos of garbage cans being emptied over and over and over...that is how much that act is loved in our house.

It begins with the rolling of the trash can to the curb. The sight of the big black monstrosity sitting at the curb bought out ecstasy in Jax, and subsequently Maisie. Could this be the day I have been anticipating for the last three days (when we used to get our trash taken twice per week)? Jax would stand at the front window, chewing on the window sill, trying to contain his excitement. Some lucky days, he would get to stand at the storm door. Really special days meant that we got to wait outside while the garbage man came down our street. "Mommy, look. It's the dump diaper truck." That is his special name for garbage truck because it came by to pick up his diapers. The squeal of delights would ensue.

But the crowning jewel was the actual garbage man. We were on a first-name basis with him. KB was one of the sweetest men I have met here in Lawton, and he was just great with Jax. It's not like we would invite him in for coffee. Twice per week, this steward of trash would drive by our house and look for Jax. He would look towards our window or door and see if he could see two little eyes peering over the window sill. And he would wave. Not just a flippant gesture with a meaning of "I hope you go away soon." It was a sincere signal encouraging a little boy to wonder about the things and people in his life. My little boy loved our garbage man, and in his own sweet way, I think the garbage man loved my son.

Also, he cared about us. He would stop when we were sitting outside to remind us of an upcoming holiday and that our trash day would be pushed back one day. Or to tell us about the bulk trash pick up that was just around the corner. He wanted to make sure that we did not mis out on something that we might have needed in reference to our trash. He was not curing cancer or developing a method to purify water for third world, but Jax thought the world of him.

When our government housing was privatized, they switched companies. KB would have had to take a $10 per hour pay cut to continue on his particular route. So he wished us luck and said that he enjoyed seeing our family twice per week for the last two and a half years. We hoped for the best.

Nine months later, I have yet to elicit a word from my new trash man. This morning, as I sprinted to drag the can to the curb in time, the trash man looked upset that I made it in time. I said, "Good morning." Nothing. "Have a great day!" Nothing again. Not even a polite nod to acknowledge that I was standing five feet from him. Jax does not care if he sees that trash man at all. There is no more joy in watching the "dump diaper truck" that drives down our street. I know that kids have to grow up, but I do not think they should be pushed into it. At least there is still YouTube and all the people who have taken what might seem like a useless video but to us, they bring joy back to one little boy.