Monday, October 08, 2007

Let The Sun Shine


This little tidbit is about my weeble neighbor, Prissy, and the arrangement we have with regards to trash pick up. Rather than spend the amount of money the town wanted us to pay for a permit plus special bags to haul our own trash, we decided to contract with a waste management company. Since Prissy has such a teensy bag of trash, I told her she might as well put hers with ours. Every Sunday night or Monday morning, I would go over have a fast cup of tea and collect her trash. When she has some do ri me, she kindly kicks some our way towards the bill. Two weeks ago, our trash pick up day was changed from Monday afternoon to early Thursday morning. We had Prissy put her trash on her front stoop Wednesday night and when Himself got home from karate and T'ai Chi classes, he would go over to pick up the garbage.


Prissy called me to go over for tea this afternoon. It was a dreary, rainy day and I figured she wanted a little bit of company. We chatted as she set the tea things out. Bits of this and that. After an hour, I got up to leave.


"Oh, wait before you go." She brought out a plate of muffins. "I baked these for Himself. He's been so kind coming to get my trash." She held the offering and beamed.


Hello! Who picked up your trash for over a year on Sunday nights or Monday mornings? Through rain or snow and dark of night, weaving and dodging the peeping eyes of the Leaf Lady, I was ever faithful and stayed my rounds. Prissy never baked muffins for me! What is it with mothers and sons, even if they are adopted? Weebles, you can't win for losing. Well, Himself and I had a good laugh and enjoyed the muffins. When Himself bent to retrieve a muffin liner that fell on the floor, the sun came out.

3 comments:

Anonymous said...

Life just ain't fair..
Men do so little that we must play it up big?????? (compared to us of course.)

Alesia said...

OHMIGOD! I laughed so hard I can hardly breathe. My friend's mom is a Weeble and I'm overly kind, many times a week, to Jane (the mom) even though I know she drives my friend crazy. Twice a year my Himself & I go to the friend's house for some sort of party and Himself says hello to Jane like he remembers who she is. Jane frequently tells me "I like your husband, he's the only one who talks to me." Quoi? What was I doing?!?

Erica Vetsch said...

LOL, as you say, some days it don't pay to chew through the straps.