Thursday, January 5, 2012
The recycling container starts out all fresh and clean and empty. Then, very quickly, it fills. Whomever is responsible for filling it up has to take it downstairs to the recycling. This has not been stated out loud but we both know it's only polite. And so, to avoid the horror of a simple chore, we stack. We stack and stack and stack until the recycling container is a teetering pile of boxes, plastic yogurt containers and wine bottles. Like a Jenga tower but with cookie boxes instead of bricks!
I've become extremely adept at finding a hole in the pile and wedging my item inside. I stuff old receipts and mail into the sides to make it more sturdy. I balance a peanut butter jar inside of a Parmesan cheese tub. I slide cereal boxes in the back and crinkly cracker sleeves in the front. I'm a Recycling Jenga master.
It is my husband who usually gives up and takes it down. I know I should give him credit for being the less lazy player but, let's face it, he LOSES! He looks at the pile and decides there's nowhere for that pizza box to go. He throws in the proverbial towel and takes down the tower of glass, cardboard and plastic, carefully putting it into trash bags and hauling them to the big blue bin in the garage.
I'm totally stoked that I don't have to make that atrocious five minute trip downstairs for two reasons: 1) I don't wanna. And, 2) I won.
I'm a winner! A lazy lazy winner.
*photo by jam343.