I wanted to share a funny story with you. I am becoming our mother.
As you may recall, one of my neighbors keeps using my trash can. It pisses me off because I don't accumulate much trash, but every two weeks when the bag is full and I attempt to take it out, my can is full already with someone else's crap. Now, I could be a jerk and use another trash can, but two wrongs don't make it right (or something like that). So, I was lying in bed trying to sleep Wednesday night (or Thursday Morn as it was 3am) when I heard someone rolling a trash can out to the curb. "Who's taking out their trash at this hour?" I thought. Followed by, "Rats! I forgot to take out my trash!" So, I peeked out the window to see who it was and it was the chick downstairs who ripped up the carpet when she moved in. She had had a party over the weekend and I guess she had a lot of trash because she was rolling out not one, not two, but three trash cans. Crimoney! Someone needs to learn about recycling. I saw her gathering and there weren't more than 10 people. Anyway, I was so mad at her. I thought, "I'll fix her little red wagon," and then I giggled because it's such a Mom thing to say.
Anyway, yesterday when I got home from my dentist appointment all the trash cans were still sitting on the curb (which is the other thing that irks me--she uses my can but never brings it back from the curb so I get in trouble with the Frau). I grabbed my can and pulled it up to my front porch. Then I went upstairs, grabbed the can of white paint I had in the cupboard, some Q-tips, a tube of moist towelettes, a Wite-out pen, and my bags of trash that didn't get out. Using Q-tips, I painted my apartment number in thick white paint about 4 inches high on the top and both sides of the can, then added "only" for good measure. Then, with the Wite-out pen, I wrote "Unless you live at [my apt #], please stop using this trash can!!" I used two exclamation points because everyone knows you mean business when you use two.
When I finished, I wiped up the drips on the sides, surveyed my handiwork and declared myself satisfied. I may have even added a little nod of my head, Little Rascals style. This morning while I was filling the water dispenser, I looked outside to see my trash can, white numbers gleaming in the sun, and I had to laugh at myself. I think you can probably see them from the police helicopters, which is kind of a civil service if the police are hunting a suspect and need to tell the ground units where they are.
In other news, I have a pretty new crown and it doesn't hurt anymore, although I now have cramps to pick up the slack.
The towelettes were to clean off the top of the can before painting.
As you may recall, one of my neighbors keeps using my trash can. It pisses me off because I don't accumulate much trash, but every two weeks when the bag is full and I attempt to take it out, my can is full already with someone else's crap. Now, I could be a jerk and use another trash can, but two wrongs don't make it right (or something like that). So, I was lying in bed trying to sleep Wednesday night (or Thursday Morn as it was 3am) when I heard someone rolling a trash can out to the curb. "Who's taking out their trash at this hour?" I thought. Followed by, "Rats! I forgot to take out my trash!" So, I peeked out the window to see who it was and it was the chick downstairs who ripped up the carpet when she moved in. She had had a party over the weekend and I guess she had a lot of trash because she was rolling out not one, not two, but three trash cans. Crimoney! Someone needs to learn about recycling. I saw her gathering and there weren't more than 10 people. Anyway, I was so mad at her. I thought, "I'll fix her little red wagon," and then I giggled because it's such a Mom thing to say.
Anyway, yesterday when I got home from my dentist appointment all the trash cans were still sitting on the curb (which is the other thing that irks me--she uses my can but never brings it back from the curb so I get in trouble with the Frau). I grabbed my can and pulled it up to my front porch. Then I went upstairs, grabbed the can of white paint I had in the cupboard, some Q-tips, a tube of moist towelettes, a Wite-out pen, and my bags of trash that didn't get out. Using Q-tips, I painted my apartment number in thick white paint about 4 inches high on the top and both sides of the can, then added "only" for good measure. Then, with the Wite-out pen, I wrote "Unless you live at [my apt #], please stop using this trash can!!" I used two exclamation points because everyone knows you mean business when you use two.
When I finished, I wiped up the drips on the sides, surveyed my handiwork and declared myself satisfied. I may have even added a little nod of my head, Little Rascals style. This morning while I was filling the water dispenser, I looked outside to see my trash can, white numbers gleaming in the sun, and I had to laugh at myself. I think you can probably see them from the police helicopters, which is kind of a civil service if the police are hunting a suspect and need to tell the ground units where they are.
In other news, I have a pretty new crown and it doesn't hurt anymore, although I now have cramps to pick up the slack.
The towelettes were to clean off the top of the can before painting.
1 comment:
what, no pictures?! At least of the trashcan, if not the crown!
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