How To Dispose Of A Trashcan
“How do you throw away a trashcan when the trash techs won’t pick it up?”
Rabbit chewed a piece of steak as he stared at me from across the dinner table.
“I mean…if you put it out there at the curb, no matter how beat up it looks, they just leave it there.”
Rabbit munched in silence.
“And if you write the word ‘TRASH’ on it, they look at it, laugh and say, ‘yeah, duh, we know it’s a trash can,’ and they leave it at the curb.”
Rabbit scooped up some mashed potatoes and munched in silence, his beautiful green eyes watching me as I spoke.
“And if you write ‘Please Take-Trash’ on the can, they look at it, laugh, and say, ‘yeah, duh, we know it’s trash and we know we’re supposed to take the trash, ‘cuz that’s what we’re paid to do,’ and they still leave the can at the curb.”
Rabbit scooped up some more mashed potatoes. Meanwhile, Hamster the Squirrel, as seen on the video A Beggar’s Breakfast tried to climb up the metal frame of the sliding glass doors to get eye level with us so we could see him and give him peanuts. I got up, went to the peanut bucket, opened the door, and handed Hamster a snack. Then I went back to the dinner table and resumed my chat.
“So…if you write ‘Please Recycle’ on the can, the trash techs look at it and agree that it’s a message to everyone how important it is to recycle plastic, but they still leave the can at the curb.”
Hamster was again climbing up the frame of the sliding glass door, so I paused to go give him another peanut. Annoyed with his antics, I decided to leave the door open and the lid off the peanut bucket so he could help himself. Meanwhile, an entire pod of koi begged at the surface of the pond.
“Overfed brats,” I muttered. “You’ve been fed already. I’m not that senile.”
I went back to the table and sat down again. “So, how do you throw away a trash can?”
“Well,” Rabbit said. “You have two choices.”
“Yeah?”
“You can take it to the dump yourself.”
“Yuck.”
“Or…you could try cutting it in pieces with a chainsaw and putting it in the recycle bin.”
“Hmmm, I never thought of that.”
Rabbit munched in silence.
“Hey, does that mean I can have my chainsaw?” That was an exciting idea, since I loved to destroy things with the chainsaw. I’d been begging my husband to let me whack down the overgrown bamboo in our yard, but he’d stubbornly refused, citing that I was too much of a clutz not to pose a danger to myself while wielding anything sharper than toilet paper.
“No.”
“Damn,” I grumbled.
Mooch grumbled and wagged her tump. Hamster scrambled around in the peanut bucket and helped himself to another treat. Mooch grumbled again.
“You’re not getting my steak. I’m not even done with my dinner,” I informed her.
She grumbled.
“You’ll have to wait.”
Mooch grumbled, Rabbit munched, Hamster stole peanuts while I plotted ways to sneak my chainsaw out of the garage without Rabbit catching me.
Copyright 2008 C. D. Blizzard
