Yesterday as I got home from the bus, the recycle truck was coming up the street. I ran to get both girls (because, after all, who doesn't love a garbage truck?). We watched from the yard, L giggling in my arms with excitement as the humptyback truck pulled up and the guy got out to roll our container to the street.
Except that K yelled "Hey, woman! Daddy, woman!"
I was proud of her, but in the interest of truth I tried to point out that it was actually a youngish man with long hair. She wouldn't believe me. And I couldn't bring myself to force the point. I mean, how wonderful that she thinks sanitation work is available to everyone, regardless of gender! And "woman," not "girl." We're doing something right.
The only concern now is that she'll realize at some point the guy actually is a guy, and then what happens? I play her "Lola" by the Kinks, and we have a longish conversation?
Oddly, she accepts without question that her doctor is a woman. I mean, women have always been doctors, right? It's kind of cool that she considers that a given.
But a garbage woman? Now that's exciting!