You Dig Baby?

"Digger" (or more accurately "diGAAAH") was probably the bear's 5th word. He doesn't appear to have a favorite make or model, and he will yodel encouragingly at anything yellow that is bigger than a car (including, horrifyingly enough, Hummers). So when they started digging up Yonge just at the end of our street he was a very happy little chap. For the last 2 or 3 months we have had diggers and cement mixers and rollers and Heavy Dangerous Things to look at on our walks; and we can't just walk past, oh no, we have to stop and have a look every. single. time.
Me: Oh hey look! It's a back hoe/two man lift/ in-transit mixer/ asphalt skimmer/ hydraulic jack!
Teddy: DiGAAAH!

Anyway, on the Tuesday after my birthday we took the bear and the pooch out to get groceries. My boys stayed outside the shop and in the 5 minutes it took me to pick up dinner Teddy had charmed a platoon of workmen and a policeman and had been offered a ride on a digger. The police guy diverted traffic so the jcb driver could pull into a side street and up Teddy and I hopped.

The bear knew exactly what to do, grab the wheel and make BRrrrum sounds. I have never been in a digger either and I might have been quietly squeeeeeeeeing at the awesomeness.
So diggers = awesome. Also Canadians. Call me a cynic but I can't imagine the same thing happening on Oxford Street or Tottenham Court road

Since then we have been watching this rather a lot: