My two-year old is very interested in the garbage truck at the moment.
‘Look Mama! What it doing?’ she asks.
I explain that it’s taking our rubbish away and remember for the first time in a long time that the rubbish goes to a landfill, it doesn’t just disappear. We mimic the truck’s loud rumbling and watch the jerky movements of its mechanical arm. Bin up, rubbish falls, bin down.
‘Why take our rubbish?’ she asks.
I pause, a little stumped, flipping through my mind for a sufficient answer. So we don’t have to live in filth? Because lots of things we buy come in disposable containers? Because we don’t like to look at our rubbish? Because it’s easier if we put it somewhere that most of us don’t have to think about it?
‘Because it’s stinky and yucky,’ I settle with, ‘Poooo-eeee! Bye-bye rubbish!’
We wave from the front door as the truck pulls away to the next house.