Large Trash Pick Up

Ok so this is how it goes down twice a year (or however often Large Trash Pick Up rolls around).

The week before, Aaron and I soberly agree that we must take full advantage of LTPU and rid our home of everything not edible or upon which anyone is sleeping.

LTPU almost always falls during a week when every single night has us away from home (ie during soccer season). This means we do not have the time to excavate trashy items from our garage/basement/attic/playroom/etc etc.

But it makes me feel really left out if I don't have a mound of embarrassingly decayed items on the sidewalk in time for LTPU. It feels something like not cashing in a free gift. Someone coming in and hauling away my crap no matter how large? Is it a dream or is it real?!

So this morning as Finny and I ambled down the road, he stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and exclaimed in delight. "Mommy! Someone left a beautiful couch here!" He strokes it lovingly.

My eyes focus on the priceless piece of furniture left in front of the church turned commune/garage band druggie haven. The first thing I see is a detailed diagram of male genitalia inscribed with a sharpie across the top of the couch. Educational. Next to this, is a star of sorts with 6-6-6 scrawled inside of it. Within a split second, half a dozen highly unsavoury experiences that this couch may have had, this couch that my precious child is caressing in wonderment flashed through my mind. "Don't Touch That" I shriek. He shrugs and continues to swagger coolly down the road. He is used to such hysterical proclamations. I estimate that we have only 3 minutes before I can exhale while I stick his tainted hand under hot running water and suds. I casually mention that we need to wash his hands really well the minute we get inside, when out of the corner of my eye I see him vigorously rubbing his nose. The screaming inside my head was loud, but brief. I've come a long way.

Anyway, back to the exciting saga of LTPU, so this afternoon I realized that my neighbour's trash was still out on the sidewalk which meant...there was still hope for us! I heard the truck rumbling about a block away, I figured this gave me at least 5 minutes. Enlisting the help of Finny, whose hand miraculously did not turn black and fall off after the sidewalk couch episode, I rushed into the backyard to grab a decaying rocking chair which I had discovered on the sidewalk during a LTPU of times gone by. It has since become less picturesque after a couple of years left out in the elements of our not so temperate climate. After that exciting little coup, we surveyed the garage for any junkable items. We emerged triumphant with a couple of cardboard boxes and the like. Then I got into the basement and grabbed some blinds we had been keeping just in case....(of what? A sudden unexpected influx of sun?) A few more little things here and there got the juices flowing..and then I recognized the stirrings within me. The waking of the beast. The Beast of the Purge. Once I start, it is hard to stop m'peeps. This is almost always a good thing. Almost.

Getting rid of stuff can be highly addictive and when you have to do it under such a pressing deadline-well let's just say, we came close to being one couch down (since we only have 2, both of which we use constantly this may have been noticed by the family,) not to mention living a life sans microwave.

I just checked and the LTPU truck has still not come. Apparently, it was the recycling truck I was hearing earlier..

Must go....

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