It happens every single Friday. A big green truck comes rumbling through the neighborhood in Snohomish, belching air and exhaling hydraulics and making all sorts of noise.
And every single Friday, Katie Greiert and her little guy Logan walk outside to watch. Logan has blond hair and he was holding a red bag of M&M’s. He was wearing a green polo shirt and a very serious, brow-furrowed expression, as if he was about to partake in something very important that needed concentration. He is 2 years old.
When the garbage truck pulls up and picks up the big blue bin in front of their home and empties it into the truck, Logan is transfixed. Transported. Just plain tranced.
He watches with his mouth agape, awed. His gaster is flabbered by the garbage man, who steps off the truck and accepts the gift of the M&M’s, and offers a high-5.
He smiles and says, “Thanks, buddy,” and then he’s gone, off to the next house.
Lots of little boys and girls are fascinated by the garbage man. But Logan? Logan takes it to a whole new level.
His favorite toy is a green garbage truck, just like the one that comes to his home. He practices dumping stuff into it, and then back out again, all the while making his own truck noises.
Katie says that Fridays are the highlight of Logan’s whole week, that he talks about them and probably dreams about them, too. About 11:20 they go to sit on their knees on the couch by the window and wait. And sometimes other trucks come by and Logan gets all excited, but they aren’t the garbage truck, so he’s disappointed.
But then there is that special truck noise that belongs to only one truck, THE truck, and Mom says in her excited voice, “Oh! Do you hear it?”
Logan jumps off the couch and runs to the entry-way of the house and hurriedly slips into his blue plastic Crocs. Almost as an afterthought he reaches back to grab the treat that is there waiting on a table as he bolts out the door.
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