Dumpster Duty

Some animals apparently got into our community dumpster recently. Trash decorated many of the neighbors' lawns this afternoon. The Holy Spirit inspired me to do a little clean-up action, so I did. And you know me: I can't do a dirty deed without making a game of it (it helps pass the time, and in this case, the gag reflex). I first had to create a weapon and arm myself for battle.

I knew I wouldn't be able to call for reinforcements should I need them (the dumpster is in a cellular dead zone), so I left a note for Marissa and then, after pounding two nails into an old piece of drift wood and grabbing my trusty work gloves and a few trash bags, I headed out.

I noticed the foul smell first. I won't go into details but you can thank Mr. Gates for not releasing SmellNet. I'll put it this way: I'm now ready for anything my soon-to-be-born son can produce from any orifice.

My makeshift trash-pokey-stick worked great. I just didn't know how to use it more than once. As I was trying to dislodge the first tidbit and toss it into the bin, I opened both hands. Weapon immediately swallowed whole by foul beast. Oh well... God gave me two natural trash-pokey-sticks when I was born; on came the gloves.

About half an hour later, I stepped back, surveyed my work with a satisfied sigh, and ran quickly home to do some immediate laundry. With bleach. And really, really hot water.