Tuesdays and Fridays are practically holidays around our house. It all begins early in the morning, as the boys help Jeremy take out the trash. From then on, it's all pins and needles until the moment arrives. What moment, you ask? Have you ever lived in a house with two adorable little boys?
The moment when the garbage men come.
We hear the distant rumble of the diesel truck. Someone yells out, "The men!!" (or, if Cory hears them first, "EEEEEEeeeeee!!!") And the boys bolt for the window. They clamor onto the couch and wait, hearts racing...
The men drive up to the road in front of our house. The boys squeal and wave. The men yell, "Hello, little buddies!" and wave. The man in the truck honks and honks. Iain, still waving, starts yelling, "The men beeped at me!" (Never was there a greater understatement: garbage trucks do not "beep.") And the waving, squealing, and yelling persists until the men are out of sight.
What fun garbage men we have. Maybe I should make them some cookies.
So these videos seem to be making a liar out of me. So subdued. No screaming or squealing, and Iain said "honk" instead of "beep." This must have been an off-day. I promise, there's usually so much more energy! Just ask Jeremy; he'll back me up. :)