Trash . . . it's like a four letter word, I hate taking it out. The words MOOOM, the trash is full and falling on the floor, I can't throw away my juice box is almost like a curse word to me. And amazingly I hear those words at least once, a lot of times twice a day. I wonder what is in that trash can?? How does it fill up so fast? I just don't get it, what is getting thrown away? I don't like taking it out of the can (usually because it is overfull and spills everywhere), I don't like taking it outside, I don't like remembering to take it to the road on Mon. and Thurs.
I had several people offer up their help if I needed it while Peter was gone, do you think it would be too much to call them to take out my trash? Probably overkill, I will have to just grin and bear it. If only Ben were older. Until then I am stuck as the trash taker outer at the Dell house ugh.
No comments:
Post a Comment