The Garbage Truck

On Mondays when I babysit, There's one thing that's a certain hit - A visit from the garbage truck (Unless the need for naptime's struck). We hear the truck as it draws near And Henry makes it very clear We'd better get ourselves outside. (Such passion cannot be denied.) We race out to the driveway's end To greet our Monday morning friend. The worker waves a friendly hi But Henry's serious and shy. He watches, though, with great intent And gazes at me, quite content. I understand, though he can't speak, That we're all set until next week.