Wednesday, September 12, 2007
CJ has started saying to people, "My name's CJ, what color are your garbage cans?"
Then he'll point out the tiny recycle sign on everything in our fridge/pantry/purse. Like, if I'm pouring him cereal I get, "Oh, lookie there! A recycle sign on the lid!" Numerous times throughout the day he'll walk towards me with his eyebrows raised in excitement, his finger tapping on some new item (pop can, water bottle, baby food container.)
So the other day I took him to the recycle center for a tour and he loved it! And the best part was after the main tour when he told a garbage truck driver that he wanted his job when he's big so he got to honk the horn, start it up and dump the "empty" recepticle. Except it wasn't empty. There was trash in it. CJ panicked. And started picking it up. Before I could stop him he was running towards me in a mad frenzie for a recycle bin. Holding someones used. toilet. paper. rolls.
So on any given day, we have about four different "trash stations" at our house: