“Wow, your room looks great!” – Me
“Thanks, I cleaned it.” – the Boy
“Well, that was a decent decision on your behalf since I threatened your life yesterday if you did not get it cleaned.” – Awesome Mom
I walk out of his room and notice a large, full, black garbage bag laid at the top of the stairs. I open to find the contents of the boy’s room. I ask what this is and he yells, “My garbage.”
I rummage through to find his ENTIRE collection of Legos - some unopened - a Wii controller cover, parts to his dinosaur collection, baseball cards he HAD to buy with his birthday money and every missing sock I blamed my washer for eating.
There was this one year I was a bridesmaid three times. Each of these dresses costs at least $150. I hung them in the garage, covered in garbage bags, next to all of the other bags of my yard sale items. The yard sale I was sure to have in the spring, move my goods and make some fast cash. As I went to have my yard sale, I realized most of my goods had vanished, including the dresses.
Upon questioning my husband, through some strong persuasive language, he confessed he had taken my dresses – one at a time – to the end of the driveway each week and draped across our garbage. After my head stopped spinning, and I pried my hands from his neck, I’m now concerned that the garbage man thinks I’m one of those “Housewives” – you know the kind on TV – that just throws out dresses because I am so spoiled.
I redeemed myself with the garbage man. I left him a note that read, “Please don’t think our latest trash is a reflection upon my own behavior and assume I am pretentious. The truth is, I caught my husband cross-dressing and made him throw out his “wardrobe.”
I’m kidding, I didn’t leave a note. But I did choke him…three times…in my mind.
I tell this story to bring this blog full circle and pose this question: Why in the world would my son ever even consider throwing away perfectly good items. AND, do you think the garbage man’s wife is sitting at her kitchen table - adorned in my bridesmaid dress - writing out my garbage bill?
At least the husband took his garbage to the curb; the boys made it ten feet from his bedroom door. I refer you to the blog where he carried the towel to my bathroom…