chug a lug

Today I spent a couple of hours outside playing with a young little lad I babysit. While we were running around his yard and the cul-de-sac his family's house is on, a big ol' TruGreen ChemLawn (sp?) truck drove up. The driver sat in his truck for a good five minutes, engine loudly idling, while he did who knows what. The windows were down, so I know he wasn't using the engine to supply power to the AC or heater. (It was, after all, in the mid-70s this afternoon.)

He eventually emerged from the truck without having turned it off. Maybe he needs to hook up some hoses to the back of the vehicle or something, thought I, but instead he took out a simple pushable fertilizer dispenser and went on his way. For ten minutes he pushed this thing around the yard WHILE THE HUGE TRUCK WAS STILL ON.

I was quite confused.

And peeved.

Had he been just one house closer, I would have asked him why the car was on and wasting that much gas as toxins needlessly spat into the air. Instead, I remained timid and continued to be victim to the whims of a five-year-old, who kept insisting that we were astronauts or bratty teenagers at a birthday party. Walking up and accosting the man with a machine full of chemicals? Not such a comfortable prospect. Pretending to be a bitchy teenager at a party? Perhaps a role I could play a little better.

Passively, I stayed where I was. But that doesn't mean I'm not going to give the company a call and ask them what's up.

The end.

Wondering why I posted this on here,
Janet