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It’s Always About the Trucks with Bruiser

May 8, 2010

We left Squirt’s house around midnight last night after having a good night playing games together. (With her parents, of course). About five minutes after putting the kids into their own beds we started to hear thunder. “Oh, great!” I thought. “They are going to be scared and I’m never going to fall asleep and I’m tired!”

Shortly after whining to myself, I hear Bruiser’s little voice calling me to his room in a sad sort of tone. “What’s the matter, Buddy?” I asked when I opened the door. “Diaper ouchie,” was his reply.

As I was changing him, we heard a very loud rumble of thunder. Bruiser looked up at me rather inquisitively.

“What was that?” I asked him just to see what he would say.

“Trash truck dumping.” He told me rather excitedly.

“Oh, that does sound like dumping!” I chuckled out loud and gave him a big hug.

Who would have thought that not knowing the trash pick-up schedule would work to my advantage someday? As I laid him back into bed we heard another rumble.

“I love you Bruiser. You just enjoy listening to the trash trucks and fall asleep now. Goodnight.” *kiss*

“Ni-night.”

As I crawled back into bed myself, there were several loud booms and bright flashes. Neither of the children let out a peep and slept soundly all through the night. The imagination is a powerful thing…and makes me especially happy when it is used for good. I can only imagine the truck dreams that Bruiser had last night.

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