Earth Day

Sometime last summer, out of the blue, David declared: "I don't like Earth Day. All you do is stand around and hold up signs." (I had no idea he knew what Earth Day was--it hadn't been mentioned at his preschool. And how did he know that Earth Day is all about standing around holding up signs?)

This year David's preschool has put him in the swing of things. This week he told me very seriously, "Mom, we need to take care of the Earth." And, in the tradition of any half-decent educational institution in America, it's turned my child into a recycling Nazi.

(Ah, I remember those elementary school days when I, too, thought I would change the world by diligently cutting up the plastic six-pack holders to prevent birds from strangling themselves.)

When I was cleaning out the car, I went to throw away our styrofoam Sonic cups.* David reprimanded me for not recycling them. I told him that we can't. He patiently explained how I just needed to dump out the liquid inside and then put them in the recycling bin. I tried to explain how because they're made of styrofoam we can't recycle them. He wanted to know why. I have no idea why. I'm not a chemical engineer. So I told him, lamely, that we just can't. And when I tossed them into the trash, his disappointment and scorn burned me to my core.

How do you explain why styrofoam can't be recycled? I thought that was a pretty tough question. But then later today David asked me, in so many words, to explain the overhaul of the financial regulatory system. (Served me right: We need more Laurie Berkner and less NPR in the car.) And he would not let the subject drop! He was fascinated by it. Either that or he enjoyed watching his mom struggle. Revenge for the styrofoam cups?

(P.S. Speaking of Earth Day, I thought this was interesting, especially numbers 3 and 4.)

* You know you're becoming part Texan when Sonic becomes an integral part of your life.