Why should I be made to feel guilty for taking out the trash? Nothing is trash around here. If I want to get rid of anything it is a covert operation, involving distractions, speedy hands and good lying skills.
"What? Space helmet? I don't know what you are talking about... Oh, riiight, the cracker box. I thought you ripped that into twelve pieces and scattered it around your room - it's not there? Sorry honey, I'm sure it's here somewhere... Did you look under your bed?"
Oh, it's still around all right, until Thursday morning at nine AM sharp - when the garbage man comes and I am free of it forever - finally.
2 comments:
oooohhh, so true, so true. Mom's should work for the CIA. We are soooo good at this kind of stuff . . . most of the time. Brooke is pretty sneaky too and has caught me a couple of times. Then I feel like she works for the CIA and I am the bad guy under interogation for disposing of critical information.
Another validating post - Thanks!
Hahahaha! Oh man, that's so true! I find myself sneaking things into the trash all the time, in hopes that nobody saw me. I tend to "forget" whether or not I might have thrown it out.
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