In 1983 I was four years old. You may not know this, but right around this time citizens of the USA started pushing for laws requiring that drivers and passengers wear seat belts to save lives and increase safety on the roads. About every five minutes there were commercials on TV that showed what happened to people who didn’t wear their seat belts. People would say things like, “If you love your family, then you’ll make them buckle up.” And in 1984 the seat belt legislation was passed. I’m not making this up, really. I looked it up on Wikipedia. Since 1983 I have been know in our family as “The Seat Belt Nazi.” Every time we got in the car to go somewhere I would shout out, “Put your seat belts on!!” Every. Single. Time. Drove my parents and my two older brothers crazy. But I didn’t care. I couldn’t live with myself if we had gotten into a wreck and I didn’t make sure they were buckled up. Congratulations are in order to those people who made those seat belt commercials. I’m sure I wasn’t the only 4 year old imprinted with frightening images of what would happen if the people you love don’t wear a seat belt.
And now congratulations are in order again. Because my 4 year old has been brainwashed by all the recycling commercials he sees on TV. When he sees me throwing away anything paper or plastic or metal or glass or anything that looks like it should be recycled Jake asks, “Mom, can we recycle that?” or “No, Mom, don’t throw it away, we can recycle it!” Well, his persistence is working. My kid is turning me into a tree hugger. After we move into our new house I will figure out how we can start recycling here in Lima.
But not only that, lately he doesn’t want to throw away anything at all. Nothing. I’m not exaggerating. Now, I’m sure this probably has something to do with the slight instability in our house right now. The movers are coming tomorrow to load up our stuff, and I’ve been busy for the last week getting things in boxes. So our life schedule has been a bit out of whack. Derek keeps looking for his toys saying, “Wear, wear, wear, r my toyeez?!” Translation–Where are my toys?!
This morning Jake came running in the room crying hysterically. I couldn’t tell if he was scared or hurt, but I thought for sure it had to be one or the other. No. He was crying because the trash men came and picked up some of our boxes that we left outside with the trash.
It continued throughout the rest of the day. He didn’t want me to throw away anything. He said we could recycle it. He said he could use it to build something. He said we could use it later. He said he needed it. I thought the day of not wanting to throw anything away was finally over when I started getting them ready for bed and got them in the bath. Nope. His band-aid got wet in the tub. I told him to take it off and I’d give him a new one when he got out. Fearing the truth, he started crying and asked me if I was going to throw away that used, wet band-aid.
Yes, Jakob, I am.
But I want it! We can save it for later! Use it again!
We are throwing it away, Jakob.
After the bath, I get him dried off and dig the band-aids out of the box that I already packed them in. He puts the band-aid on by himself and when he pulls the little white plastic parts off the band-aid–you know, the part that sticks to the sticky side?–I kid you not, the boy asks me if he can keep those little white pieces and not throw them away!
No, Jakob, you need to throw them away.
This time there are no tears. Apparently he was formulating a plan. While I’m standing there next to him, washing my face, I see him from the corner of my eye looking for a place to hide them on the floor back behind the toilet!
No, Jakob, throw them away.
He steps outside the bathroom and just a few feet away finds a box that’s been taped up. Very sneakily, he slips the two, little, white fragments of his band-aid into the crack of space under the flap of the box.
This is the part where I gave up, turned my head as if I didn’t see it, smiled real big and tried not to laugh out loud.
The new Seat Belt Nazi, indeed. Makes me kind of proud.
5 Comments
O my goodness. Bless his little heart! I am sitting here reading your story and watching “Hoarding: Buried Alive!”. lol
Moving is TOUGH on little guys. It won’t be long till you will be all settled and snug in your new place.
Use it up, wear it out, make it do, or do without
Has someone perhaps been secretly chanting this to him when you’re not looking?! That is hilarious.
Adorable! Shaun and I were just laughing because we can totally picture Jake saying all of this.
He’s such a smart and clever kiddo! We really enjoy hanging out with you guys
We should do it more often!
Forget all the recycling-get him on seat belts like his mama — I HAVE BEEN IN A CAR IN LIMA!!
(My handprints are tatooed on the drivers side dashboard)
You don’t need to worry about recycling things here – all your rubbish (sorry, ‘trash’) will be ransacked before or after it leaves your front driveway and have EVERYTHING recyclable removed. Alternatively, if you feel like helping them out and separating it all, you can wait for the Orange bag that Surco hands out and collects once a week especially for recycling.