You Don't Ever Find Things in the Trash Can

Neal has spent our entire marriage telling me that things are never found in the trash can.  And for the most part I agree with him, even though on rare occasion I have found a stray toy in the trash can by the desk.

Last week it came out on the blog/Neal's Facebook that I keep a running inventory around here of things...toys, dishes, anything that I can count.  I can't help it; I am constantly counting things as I put them away.  I am sure there is some sort of drug I can take to make this quality go away or tone down but honestly I like it; it helps keep our home as it should be.

This morning, while unloading the dishwasher I counted 11 juice glasses instead of 12.  On alert I counted again...still 11.  First thing, I called Neal to ask if he for some strange reason took a glass with him to work.  Then I remembered that I heard a "glass clank" when I pulled the trash out of the can in our kitchen before taking it out on Tuesday night.  The first obvious thought is, "Someone accidentally threw away their glass while throwing away their napkin.  I will have to go get the trash bag out of the can and get the glass."  I report all of this to Neal; he said he would do it tonight but I can't wait anymore and the desire to have my glass back took over a few minutes ago.

I go out to the big can; push my sleeves up; pull out the bag and begin to dig.  I think about how gross our trash is as I rummage through.  An overwhelming sense of disgusting over comes my left arm as I dig deeper to get beyond the egg shells and sandwich scraps.  I finally get to the glass, the glass spaghetti sauce jar!  Then it hits me. I agree with Neal once again; you don't ever find things in the trash can so why am I so willing to look?  Why is it almost always my first thought, "guess it got thrown away; lets go look in the trash."?

I come inside, scrub my hands (and arm) and think "WHERE COULD IT BE?!"  Then on some whim I decide to look under the chair.  Not a dining room chair but a club chair in the living room.  Not sure why I did but there under the chair was the glass turned on its side.  If only my first instinct was not the trash and I had looked there first!

I hate it when he is right!