So I am working on the computer on Sunday when I hear this cry and our Boykin Spaniel, Shadow goes into hyper whine mode, barking and pawing at the back door. A few minutes later my bride comes staggering in out of her garden, into the house covered in what can best be described as YUCK.and holding her left shoulder. As she drops onto our leather couch with a surrendering whimper. About 30 seconds later my nose takes notice as the wafting scent of 3 day old Salmon and last Tuesdays left over Spaghetti joins us in the living room. The once white mens dress shirt that she wears when she plays in her garden, is covered in sauces and vacume bags furry castoffs.
I ask her if shes ok and through teary eyes, she tells me that she, FELL INTO THE TRASHCAN.
Now Im not talking about the cute trash can by the desk ir even the restaurant size one in the Kitchen,
No, No, No...NEVER DO ANYTHING HALF ASS THAT YOU CAN DO WHOLE ASS (our unofficial
No, the love of my life decided that she was past her expiration date and it was time to throw herself away.
While the cats fought for the last scraps of Sheppards pie stuck in her rolled up shirt sleeves she explained to me why she went Oscar the crouch.
In a hurry to get more done than just bring the trash can back to its home and pick up debris from her latest day in the garden, she took her eye off her chore to answer the phone.
Just as she said hello the lid flipped open, knocking the trash can out of her grasp and sending her stumbling forward where she stepped on and tripped on the open lid, which in turn caused her to do a head first Superman i to the deep...dark... recesses of the 5 year old solid waste receptacle. Her momentum caused the can to right itself, leaving my angel, legs up and in an inverted position tryng desperately to escape the horrors of Dinners past
Eventually she unrighted herself and made her way, to go lunches and all to the relative safety of our couch. Trailed by her pack of semi-farrol cats who thought it was dinner time and Shadow who seemed content to graze on her left sleave. Two tylenol, and a stiff tequila later she made the executive decision to take an hour long shower and have our son Morgen handle the cans from now on.
Some artistic licence was taken in the writing of this story