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April 14, 2003 - Monday
Jeremy loves trucks. Oh, sure, it's just the same as Harry did and just the same as, I suspect, the large majority of eighteen month old boys that see one. But, even the second time around it's just hard not to feel the raw joy of a little boy at the site of a big truck. And, Jeremy has seriously caught the truck bug.

It's an easy enough word, or at least easy enough to understand what it's supposed to be, and probably one of many boys' first words. With Jeremy, as with Harry, it's an abbreviated, sharp vocalization that comes out sounding more like "uck," or maybe "duck" or "tuck" (clearly preferable to, according to reports, their mother's more colorful childhood pronunciation...). And, as with Harry, Jeremy is quick to notice and quick to point at them whenever possible. Dump trucks seem to be his favorite, but over the last month and a half he's become more worldly about identifying and praising pick-ups, trailer trucks, flat beds, vans, and just about any piece of capital equipment he sees.

So, what a happy day it was today when, on the way to mall, Harry, Jeremy, and I went by a road overpass and bridge construction site at work. We've actually passed this construction spot many, many times when there's been nothing happening, save perhaps an idle crane which seemed to have lost much of its luster with Harry. This construction project is ultimately a small part of a much larger construction project on the state highway below, so it's not all that surprising that the progress has been slow. But, today, there was all the thrill of a big yellow excavator digging, two large dump trucks filled with dirt rolling around, a bulldozer, and a police office working the traffic and, thankfully!, slowing us down as we passed by.

Harry was the first to notice the activity. It was on his side of the car. "It's a big excavator and two dump trucks," he said excitedly.
"Oh yea," I responded, "look Jeremy, dump trucks."
But, Jeremy had already seen them and was shouting "tuck, tuck" and pointing across the backseat of the car.
Harry went on exercising his remarkable vocabulary talking about the bulldozer, the bridge work, how they were making a new ramp for the cars, and asking what the policeman was doing in the middle of the road.
Poor Jeremy, he had no more words to expand upon what he had already said ("tuck, tuck") and no way joining or adding to Harry and my animated discussion of the digging, the hauling, or the policeman. But, perhaps, that was enough for Jeremy. I wasn't watching him as I drove slowly passed the bustling heavy equipment, but I swear I could hear the sound of Jeremy's contented body wilting back into his carseat as a heavy, sated sigh drifted up from his side of the backseat. There was another as we passed the policeman and as the big pieces of capital equipment moved passed Harry's side window and out of view. Harry went on asking about the policeman and I went on explaining, but Jeremy just sat in apparent reverie.

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