The story goes

It was the 1970s. My dad, (before he was my dad) had shoulder length blond hair. He drove a baby blue pick up truck that he'd painted himself.  He and his two friends sat three across in the pick up on Main Street while they waited on a red light.

His friend by the passenger side window tossed a bit of trash out.

My dad sat through a green light. And another red one.

My dad's buddy Roger leaned over to the other guy on the end and told him, "Brad's pretty serious about littering. You might want to hop out and get that or we're going to be sitting here for awhile."

That's the way the story goes.

Well, I believe that the passion for making sure trash makes it to the trash can has been passed down to my daughter.

We walk Lily home from school on most days. And on most days Lily gathers trash along the way. (I should really invest in some latex gloves.)

Today, as she gathered trash, she was saying loudly as we walked, "People! You shouldn't litter! It causes air pollution and gets into our lungs when we breathe! Littering is BAD!"

I believe I have a tree hugging little hippie on my hands. Gotta love that girl!