Husband texts me this morning. And I'll be honest, it's 10:45 am and I'm still in bed. The kids have off of school. No one wants to do anything and I'm totally cool with that. I have lofty plans of putting on pants and making S'Mores bars. That's it. That's Friday. Pants and S'Mores.
He asks me how the kids are so I confess that we are a bunch of lazy asses and that the ONE beer I had last night after Run Club has left me with a blistering headache this morning.
He tells me he's got a funny story for me.
Before I left for Run Club last night, I 'strongly encouraged'* him to take out both the garbage and the recycling. When I returned from Run Club, of course, both cans were as full as when I left. He promised he'd take them out on his way to work this morning.
He goes on to tell me this morning that after he's thrown the garbage bag into the dumpster, he feels like something ... other than the bag of garbage... is missing from his hand. He quickly realizes that in addition to the garbage, he's also tossed his lunch into the dumpster.
I was relieved that it wasn't his iPhone and that he wasn't contacting me to ask if I'd take a jump into the dumpster to find his phone. Additionally, I was happy to learn that he wasn't texting me from inside the dumpster.
This whole scenario was moderately amusing to me because yesterday morning, I walked into the kitchen and saw his packed lunch on the counter by the door, about 2 hours after he'd already left for work. The man just can't remember to put it in his bag and take it with him. He can make it. He can put it in a bag. He can take it out of the refrigerator in the morning. But the chances of him actually remembering to take it with him when he leaves the house and heads for the train are slight.
Well, the story wasn't over. He had some chili, a banana, an apple and a yogurt in that lunch bag. He decided to go after it.
Our garbage is hauled away every Tuesday. Since it's Friday, his lunch may have landed on a few days worth of garbage bags. We have 6 units in our building, not to mention random jackasses that try to get rid of stuff in 'public' dumpsters, so the garbage piles up quickly and Husband can see his lunch bag.
But he can't reach it.
He tells me he considers standing on the top of the recylcing dumpster to see if he can get into a better position to grab his lunch, but as he's contemplating this next move, he sees some animal legs.
Me: "OMG? Dead?"
Husband: "Dead, I think. Or sleeping."
Me: "OMG! What kind of animal?"
Husband: "It was small. With Orange fur. Do you know where Raoul is?"
And here is where I have a problem. I mean, this story has at least two small problems:
1) Why can't my husband manage to get a god damn lunch out of the door and to his place of employ? He holds two Master degrees, has edited most of the chapters of his father's book, he's been in The New York Times but he can't manage to get a fucking lunch to work?
2) Shouldn't he have been a little freaked out that he was going to save a lunch that had landed in a pile of garbage (and now, a pile of dead critter)? Because honestly, that seems dirty to me. We aren't rolling in the cash at this point in our lives, but we're not so low that we have to resort to pickin' food out of garbage. I don't think that the 5 second rule is even valid when the food you've dropped lands in a dumpster.**
But here's my real problem:
He told me he had a funny story for me.
That was how he started things: It's a 'funny' story. He ended it with, "Do you know where our beloved pet cat is, because, I think I might have found his dead body in our dumpster?"
That's not funny at all.
We finished our conversation and decided that if I made pizza dough today, he'd make pizza tonight. And before he got to making the pizza, he'd get out his hockey stick and we'd all go to the alley to fish the dead, orange thing out of the dumpster.
Sometimes, Friday night entertainment just plans itself...
|This was taken yesterday. He's happy and alive. And in a basket of yarn, not a dumpster.|
* Strongly Encouraged = "That fuckin' garbage better not be here when I get back!"
** Also, typical Husband, falling into a pile of shit and coming out smellin' like a rose ... he got a free lunch at school today.