The Garbage Out
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(apostrophes and quotes removed on purpose, ...its complicated....)
The garbage out
Every once in a great while, one of your children does something so unexpected and spectacular, it takes your breath away. Ok, maybe I just hold my breath for a long time hoping that it wont turn out to be something really bad that I just mistook for something good. Like my son racing to the store to get something I desperately need to finish dinner and coming home triumphant, but with a policeman stuck to the bumper.
Im not talking about parting the red sea though, or even parting his hair (although, that would be nice too). I am referring to the little things that make up the substance of the universe, such as taking the garbage up to the curb when no one else thought to. This one lone deed wipes out a multitude of great sins. This selfless act, done while his family slept peacefully, unaware of the impending tragedy, marks a mighty step into manhood. Of course it might have been a plan to get more cash out of me in the morning, but so what! Its still very cool.
For me, the full impact of this historic event, began the week before. Due to the crippling disease of forgetfulness we missed getting the trash up to the curb for garbage night. For a week we toyed with the idea of tracking garbage trucks surreptitiously, waiting our chance to lure them unsuspecting to our trash. This mission was so fraught with peril, that we determined that we were too chicken to do it, besides my oldest has the van all day and who wants to try to sneak garbage around in their sporty compact.
Meanwhile our mistake was exposed to the world. Garbage was showing in the front or our house! It was peeking out the top of the cans, boldly lolling around the front of the garage (although, every time we open the garage door, most of our neighbors are of the opinion that we are running a garbage dump). In fact some neighbors have asked to bring their garbage over to our pile, because they are having company.
Your house is such a dump anyway, who would notice?
Its not a dump! Its eclectic. I feel very sad for people who lack inner vision.
So, there we were, ripe for a final end to our week long trial, and yet poised for disaster. It’s not as if we had not been reminded many times as well as discussing it among ourselves. It must have been one of those instances where you have all been reminded so much that you subconscious just represses the whole subject. What the Germans call Furgottududen. It didnt occur to me until the next morning at the crucial minute, 6:05am, when I was struck by what we Americans call Garbage panic. Thats when the lilting notes of the garbage crusher can be heard wafting through the neighborhood as it consumes all our non-eclectic neighbor’s garbage.
Racing to the kitchen with thoughts of shooting up the driveway with two fully loaded cans in each hand, in my bare feet, in the dark, alone against town policy and yet another week of shame, I saw the vision. Through the front window I could see them at the top of my driveway, the Generals of Refuse Removal, and what were they doing? They were lifting my cans and dumping them into the truck! The crusher munched, the engine roared, moving the sainted truck off to remove the shame from anothers door. I rejoiced in my savior and resolved to let him sleep an extra five minutes this morning. Of course that would mean all the more yelling when the big lump did finally have to get out of bed, but whats that against this deed of pure goodness?
Instead of waking him up, I wrote this poem in his honor
Who produces a pass when its time for Gym class!
Number One Son!
Who is a bully, a liar and sets things on fire?
Number One Son!
Who probably hauled the trash just to suck up some cash?
Number One Son!
He finagles his life, and work he despises
He considers only himself, with no compromises
He lies like a lump, without a hint of surprises
But in the darkest dawn, to the occasion he rises
Number One Son!
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