So a few weeks ago, I posted a picture of Sam waiting by his window for the garbage truck at the crack of dawn on a Tuesday morning. Since then, he's having a hard time awakening himself to see it. We have had some close calls on missing it (and trust me, Tuesday is not a good day if we miss it), so Kris and I (okay, mostly Kris, but I do play a major role) have conditioned ourselves for the great Tuesday morning race.
We are usually somewhat awake by the time we hear the truck, as the alarm has usually gone off once, or sometimes twice, by then. As soon as we hear it, I whisper shout an alarming "Garbage truck!"...I'm not sure what makes me do it and why on earth I feel so panicked at that moment. Maybe it's because I've experienced one too many mornings of crying and wailing and defiant refusals to go potty, get dressed, put shoes on and walk out the door...all because they won't let go of the fact that they missed it and continue to stand poised at the window waiting for the big event.
And, yes, I say "they" because Grace has joined in on the action. One morning, she heard it first and sat screaming in her bed, "Hurry, Mommy! The garbage truck!" Why she couldn't get herself out of bed at that moment like she does fifteen times every night before she goes to sleep is beyond me.
Anyway, as soon as the terrified words leave my lips, Kris, who has a direct line from his side of the bed to our bedroom door to the hall, springs up from bed and sprints around the corner to the kids' rooms. I hear the blinds go up then one child plucked from his bed and from a deep sleep and plopped in front of the window as he whimpers for a second before realizing what is going on. Next, I hear the other plucked from her bed and raced into her brothers' room where she is set next to him to view the weekly wonder. Then calmly, Kris gathers pillows and blankets and makes the little beds on the floor in front of the window where the kids will lightly snooze for a half hour while waiting for the recycling truck to come into view.
After all is said and done, everyone is snuggled back into position for their last stretch of rest for the night/early morning and the whole thing took, oh, about 60 seconds. But, trust me, it could be the most important 60 seconds of the week.
1 comment:
That's too cute. One of our neighbors drives a flatbed tow truck and OH the excitement when he pulls into the parking lot. Both of them have to be picked up to see Derrick pull into the driveway. Some days when he's in and out a dozen times, I get quite the workout. I am sure he can see their little heads poking over the fence and wonders why my kids are so weird ;)
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