“Did you take out the trash?” asked my Beloved with narrowed eyes.
I paused for a moment, unsure of what to say. Then I pointed to my daffodils that had struggled to come up every year since I had planted them. I babbled on about how I really should dig up the bulbs and find a place in our shady yard that had just a wee more sun.
With a sigh, I looked into my husband’s eyes and confessed, “Yes, I took out the trash.”
Shaun burst into laughter and crowed that he knew I wouldn’t be able to stand it.
It was true. I couldn’t stand it. Shaun generally takes the large bins to the road for pick-up on Trash Day. This particular morning, he had poked his head back into the house to tell me that the bins were empty and that it would be pointless to haul them up.
Naturally, I didn’t believe him. I knew that it simply wasn’t possible to not have any trash. I was aware that it was primarily just the two of us living here now, but it wasn’t very long ago that we had to stomp trash down to fit it all in. Surely the addition of two girls couldn’t add that much garbage!
Shaking my head, I grabbed the one bag of trash from the kitchen and brought it to the outside bin. Peering inside, I noted that Shaun was right. (I really hate it when he’s right. That means that I’m wrong. Sigh…) Sprawled in the bottom, was a sack of used kitty litter and an empty Starbucks cup. Dropping the bag I had carried from the house into the bin, I dashed back inside and went on a mad treasure hunt for more trash.
I have to admit that it wasn’t easy. I went through every room and the garage. I found tons of clutter that could be given away, some recycling and just a little actual trash. Doubling my efforts, I managed fill that bin at least, ok…almost…halfway. Enough, in my book, to haul up to the road.
I’m already on a mission to fill that bin up all the way next week. I just hope I don’t have to go borrow some from the neighbors in order to do it.
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