Sara sat at the window, looking
through the glass panes. “When’s the milkman going to come?” she asked her
Sara had woken up very early that
morning. Her mum lay on the couch, wondering where her daughter got all
her energy. “He’ll come soon. It’s not even light outside yet.”
Sara looked down near the front
door. “I see the empty bottles. It must be cold outside because there is
ice on them. Poor milkman, having to go out in the cold every morning.”
Her mum couldn’t help but laugh. She
sat up and looked at the bottles. “It does look cold out there. How many
bottles can you see?” she asked.
Sara counted them slowly, “One, two,
three, four, five, six! There are six empty milk bottles.”
“Very good, Sara. That’s right. We
drink two each day and the milkman comes twice a week,” her mum said.
“I like milk. I like it when you
peel off the silver lid and there is cream on it and on the top of the
milk. It’s my favorite part,” Sara smiled, licking her lips. “I can’t have
my breakfast until the milkman comes because we don’t have any milk. I
wish he would hurry. I’m very hungry.” Just then both Sara and her mum
heard the sound of a truck. “It’s the milkman!” She jumped up and leaned
over to get a better view. “I see his truck. Here he comes now.”
The milkman walked down the sidewalk
and came through the hedges in front of Sara’s house. He was dressed in a
white uniform and wore a white hat. Sara giggled. He waved at her and she
waved back. She saw that he was wearing gloves too. “His hands must be
cold,” her mum noted.
He was carrying two metal baskets. He
picked up the empty bottles and put them neatly into one of them. He took
the full milk bottles out of the other and put them down near the front
door. He waved goodbye and went back to his truck.
Sara ran to the door and pulled it
open. “Our milk is here, Mum!” she shouted. The bottles were icy cold. She
picked one up at a time and carried them into the kitchen. Mum put them
into the refrigerator. “It’s very cold outside. I’m glad he’s got a warm
truck to drive around in.” Sara sat at the kitchen table. Her mum poured
her some cereal from the box. Sara peeled back the foil lid and licked the
cream off it. She held the bottle carefully and poured the milk into her
bowl. “Yum. I love milk and cream,” she said with her mouth full of food.
“Drink your orange juice,” her mum
“Mum, why aren’t there orange juice
men? I wish there was. They could drop off bottles of orange juice every
day for us and pick up the empty bottles,” Sara said, quite seriously.
Mum started laughing and soon Sara
joined her. “You silly girl,” Mum chuckled. The two of them finished their
breakfast. Sara put the milk bottle into the refrigerator along with the
others. She couldn’t wait until the next time the milkman came.