Talking trash

It’s trash morning and I forgot to take the trash up (and by that I mean “I forgot to tell the boys to take the trash up”) yet again. This is a pain because our driveway is 1,000 miles long and the trash man comes at Dark:30. Normally, I would just forget about it and hold on to the trash for another week. That can’t happen this week because we just hosted a huge Thanksgiving and both cans are crammed to the hilt, so……

Which Mouseketools can we use to help get 123847 pounds of trash down the driveway?


We have a Jeep, two boys that have to be waiting at the end of the driveway for the bus at 6:50 a.m., wine, and the Mystery Mouseketool. That’s right! We can use the Jeep and the boys to pull the trash cans down.


Right now, you’re probably thinking I’m a genius. So did I. It probably would have worked if the cans weren’t so full that Colt’s feeble hands, which are rarely used for anything besides operating touch screens, couldn’t get a good grip.

So rather than me just walking at least one of the cans down the driveway myself, this turned into me gathering trash in the yard (twice, because he wanted to give it another try after the first failure) while consoling my eight-year-old on the injustice in the world as he has a nervous breakdown (“WHY DID I DROP MINE AND BRENNAN DIDN’T!? HE’S YOUNGER! IT’S NOT FAIR!). All at 6:49 a.m. In the dark. Under the threat of missing the bus.

The start of yet another great day.

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