I need a keeper

So, I just took out the laundry room trash, right? (This is where we change the Pull-Ups…I’ll let your imagination fill in the rest of the details on that.)

Pulled the bag full of lovely treasures out of the can.

Took the bag out to the tote.

Came back inside.

Reached for a fresh trash bag. Felt around on the empty shelf space for a moment. Drat! That’s right. We were out, and I just got a new box.

Took half an hour to find the new box because my organization methods have become a tad sloppy lately. (Thank DOG we’re not having anybody over here for Easter this year.)

Tore off the top of the box.

Threw it into the trash can.

Grabbed the trash bag.

Realized that I have neglected to observe the correct order of events, here.

Plucked the box top out of the trash.

…along with…something else…that had oozed into the bottom of the can at some point…

Quick! Rush to the bathroom, pour boiling water and bleach over hands! (OK, it was just soap and hot water.) (But I did actually think about using bleach cleanser on them because ew.)

On the way back to the trash can, I noticed the box top lying on the floor under a pile of grossed-out squeals…along with a few Kleenex that missed and a banana peel someone likewise didn’t quite get all the way into the can.

Picked it all up.

Threw it into the trash can, with obligatory am I the only person in this house who knows what a trash can is for? grumbling.

Picked up the trash bag.

Looked at the not-empty trash can, and then at the trash bag, and then back at the can.

Pondered things for a long moment.

Decided I’m not qualified for this trash-bag-replacement gig and called a maid service to do it for me, along with a few other little things.

Like all the housework.

The end.

By which I mean, then I woke up.

Because hahahahaha, maid service. So not in the budget right now.

Tried to be Clever and put the bag over the top of the can and shake the trash into the bag, which I could then put into the can.

Except that I didn’t quite get it over the whole mouth of the can.

Whoops.

Picked up the trash again, muttering …it WOULD all fall over the 5% of the can that WASN’T covered by the bag…

THREW IT BACK INTO THE CAN AGAIN.

Grabbed the trash bag.

Looked at the can.

It openly mocked me.

I sobbed.

Got less clever with the whole ‘pouring the trash into the bag’ thing and actually succeeded! YAY, ME!!! Who’s your daddy now, trash can?!

Put the bag into the can.

Sat down, exhausted, to tell everybody that I am inept, and need a keeper.

Thank you for listening.

And now, God help me, I need to wash some floors.

I’m sure it’s going to look like the Idiot Section of a wonder mop infomercial. Oh no, not again! (the announcer proclaims in a voice that is both sorrowful and yet hints at better things to come) That old mop just doesn’t work! {images of some moron being so inept with the kind of mop the rest of humanity figured out how to use effectively approximately six thousand years ago that you throw popcorn at the screen while shrieking, “Oh. Come. ON! Nobody is THAT inept with a mop, for carp’s sake!! You’d hafta be some kind of IDIOT to try using a mop that way!!”}