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20 Questions About Garbage

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I know this is Autism Awareness month.  I know I’m supposed to be writing something insightful, heartfelt, even newsworthy.

But I’m sick.  Again.  And the only thing in my head, besides mucous, is the conversation from my morning drive to my son’s school.  So this might be the most boring story to ever be posted on a blog.

It’s all I’ve got, so I totally don’t blame you for just skipping on to the next blog.  Really, I’m okay with that. 

But if you’re still here, then here’s my story about garbage.

Some days, the heavens smile down upon me and make the drive to school a quiet, peaceful trip…a time for me to reflect, think about my upcoming day, and basically just wake up.  But not today.  Today we passed a garbage truck, in the middle of the road, waiting to make a left turn.

“Mommy, why is that garbage truck in the street?”

“It’s waiting to turn left, honey.”

“Oh.  Why is it waiting to turn left?”

“So it can go into the neighborhood and pick up trash.”

“Noooo, I mean why is it waiting to turn left?”

Well damn, why didn’t I know he was asking the less obvious question

“Oh, it’s waiting for the cars to be gone so it doesn’t cause an accident.”

“So it’s turning at the fire station?”

“Yes, next to the fire station.”

“So it’s a fire garbage truck?”

What the fuck is a fire garbage truck?

 “No, it’s just a garbage truck, turning onto the street next to the fire station.”

“Oh, what is it going to do there?”

“It’s going to go into the neighborhood and pick up garbage.”  Duh.

 “Is it going to our house to pick up garbage?”

“No, our garbage truck comes tomorrow.”

“Oh, can I watch our garbage truck pick up our trash tomorrow with you?”

Wow, that would actually be the oddest date I’ve ever had.  Even stranger than the time my boyfriend and I watched his dad butcher a pig, in the garage.  Don’t ask.

 “Honey, the garbage truck comes while I’m at work, and you’re at school, so we won’t see it.”

“Oh.  Mommy, I want a lotta lotta bubbles in my bath tonight.”

And just like that, we went from garbage to bubbles.  And I feel like I was hit in the back of the head, with a bat.

And yeah, I know that wasn’t really 20 questions, it was more like 8.  But 8 Questions About Garbage isn’t very catchy.

I can’t believe you’re still reading this.

I can’t believe I’m still writing this.

Oh, by the way, this post certainly doesn’t earn me any votes for Top Mommy Blogs.  I mean, seriously.  BUT, I know how many of you were here yesterday, and I know how many of you didn’t click on that “vote” chick, so you kind of owe me one, don’t you think?  I mean, if you’re still reading this, then you obviously don’t have anything better to do than click it.

So pay me back for the last post, okay?

It's only 2 seconds out of your life.

 

 

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About Flannery

Kid, husband, dogs, my mother, full-time job, maximum stress, minimal relaxation...sooner or later I had to vent. AND we moved from California to Texas. I could start a whole other blog about that.

7 responses »

  1. I clicked—just for you.
    Hope your snot goes away…

    Reply
  2. I just clicked!! Can’t believe I didn’t notice it was there before… But then when I used to live with my father and his second wife, I’d often come home from college and she’d say “so what do you think?” and I’d just have a giant question mark hanging over my head and she’d be all exasperated “You’re just like your father!!! I changed the curtains/wall paper/positioning of furniture”

    Me: “Oh. It looks really good”

    Her: **rolls eyes**

    Me: **trying not to laugh**

    Reply
  3. PS. Hope you feel better soon!!

    Reply
  4. Why do you underestimate your ability and overestimate my ability to exercise discretion? I actually enjoyed reading about garbage trucks and fire garbage trucks and bubbles. It flows… Of course, I still have the phlegm from hell also so there you go. 😉

    And I clicked but I could not find you on the other side.

    Reply
  5. Oh, alright I’ll click.

    Btw, that conversation is basically every morning of my life. Not the same subject matter – but the same conversation. Ugh.

    Reply
  6. I made it through and I clicked!

    Reply

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