I mean, we have a serious crush going on. He literally gets stars in his eyes when he hears the rumbling of the big truck. He races to the window, stands on his tippy-toes, and watches with his little mouth open as the garbage man hefts large loads of our trash into the back. (stinky, stinky bags of dirty diapers...blech.) Scotty claps his hands, rubs his belly (his go-to move when he doesn't know what else to do) and looks at me like, "Why did you marry a lawyer? These guys are the real stars!"
So today I decided to humor him and when we heard the truck, I opened the front door and let him stand outside. I thought the kid was going to spontaneously combust from excitement. He pumped his little knees up and down, clapped, and squealed as the truck got closer. He kept glancing up at me like, "Omigodomigodomigod!" And then, just as we were waving to the nice man as it passed our house, low and behold...the garbage man not only waved, but stopped the truck and got out. He crossed the lawn (laughing, and hopefully not thinking we were creepy voyeurs) and went to give Scotty a high five.
This was all too much for the Bear. Scotty promptly attempted to re-enter the uterus via my shoulder, and was so taken aback he couldn't even look at the garbage man. It look a few minutes and for the guy to take his sunglasses off for Scotty to warm up, and then there were fist bumps, high fives, and lots and lots of waving. (I thanked the nice man profusely. I was still in my jammies. It was that kind of morning.)
Scotty watched as the truck curved around the cul-de-sac and eventually we went back inside. He looked a little starstruck, but who could blame him? It's not like everyday you find yourself in the presence of a celebrity. Ah, toe a toddler.