I try to open my eyes but the lids feel like lead plates.
“Mommy, the clock says it’s after 6. Can I get up now?” the oldest one asks.
I groaned.
“I thought you said you were going to sleep in today?” I ask, my voice all husky from sleep.
“I did mom,” he began, “the clock said 6:02am when I woke up and I usually get up at 6:00am.”
With that my eyes were open and I looked at my son, his eyes pleading with me to say that he could turn on the TV and play video games.
“Fine,” I said, pulling the covers back over me, “just don’t wake anyone else up.”
He scampered out of the room and I turned over to go back to sleep.
In a couple weeks, 6am would be my new wake up time too. Well, more like 6:30-6:45am if I had packed lunches and found all the shoes the night before.
School is quickly approaching and it’s hard to tell who is more excited… me or the kids.
Soon these lazy mornings and me sleeping in until 7:30am while the kids play video games and watch TV will be a thing of the past.
And as much as I love these lazy mornings, I am ready for school to begin because when it comes down to it I crave the schedule, structure and school routine just as much as the kids do.
It helps my brain remember things.
Every Monday morning, the trash needs to be set out at the end of our driveway for pick up.
And every Monday morning since school ended, I forget.
I have asked Jeff to remind me.
I have tried post it notes on the coffee maker, cupboard and bathroom mirror.
I have tired emailing myself, alerts from Google and I have even asked Siri to remind me.
But no matter what I do, I cannot remember to put out the trash. During the school year, this is not a problem. Rolling the can down to the end of the driveway on Sunday night had become just as natural as setting out all the kid’s backpacks for the next day.
I roll over from my sleep and I am met with the blinding light from the bathroom.
I look at the clock.
Jeff is up, a half hour later than he should be, getting ready for work.
Like a cat, waking from a nap, I stretch body… willing my eyes to say open.
I was really made to be a night owl. I love staying up till the wee hours of the night and then sleeping until lunch. Even after all these years of forcing myself to be a morning person, the old night owl still takes over at about 10pm making mornings down right impossible.
I stumble into the kitchen, step on a cat’s tail who is begging for food and trip over a kid who is also begging for food.
Coffee is the only thing on my mind.
Then I hear it.
The low rumble of a big truck on our street.
“Shit!” I mumble to myself as I run to the window to see… did I set the trash out last night or did I just think about doing it and then get distracted by 12 other things and forget.
The only thing in the drive way is a lone scooter, forgotten to be tucked away in the garage from yesterday’s play.
“THE TRASH!!” I yell.
I race for the back door again tripping over the cat who claws my leg in protest of not being fed immediately.
I rip the door open and push the button to open the big garage door just as I see the garage truck approach our lot.
“NO! WAIT!” I yell but the sound of my voice is lost in the revving of the engine as the truck passes our house.
I struggle, pushing and pulling, trying to free the over full trash can from it’s tight corner in the garage. ”Give it to me, come on birth this can,” I hiss, nearly spilling the contents as I rock it back and forth, finally causing it to break free and come rolling after me.
I run down the driveway scream and yelling with the green trash can behind me, waving frantically all while trying to keep my boobs from smacking me in the face in their bra-less state.
At the end of the driveway, I stop. The truck way up the road now and showing no signs of stopping.
“Dammit!” I say. “Why is it so hard for me to remember that Monday is trash day?”
Annoyed, I toy with the idea of putting our trash can in the middle of the road. There is only one way in and our of our street so a trash can in the middle of the road will totally be seen.
“But what if it won’t?” I question myself, “Do you want to spend all day picking up trash from the road when the garage truck hits the can sending it and its contents flying all over?”
I sigh.
I don’t think there is enough chocolate in the house to bribe the kids into cleaning up that mess.
Then suddenly once again, I hear the rumble of the garage truck speeding down the road.
I position the can at the end of the driveway and wait.
“Please see it and stop, please” I repeat in my head over and over.
I can feel the ground shake as the truck speeds up, “Please stop,” I say again and begin jumping and waving my arms, my flimsy lightweight jammies doing the best job they can to contain all my bits and piece but failing miserably.
“STOP!” I call as I watch the truck get closer and closer, “STOP!”
Squeeeeeel… the air breaks of the truck kick in and the truck begins to stop.
“Oh thank you,” I say breathless now feeling the cold air on my chest which makes me notice my nipples have jumped to attention and are now standing upright, ready for action.
His gazes finds my chest like a fly attracted to sugar.
I throw my arms across my chest.
“You’re welcome,” he smiles with a wink and then turns to hop back up onto the tuck.
I turn with what is left of my dignity and vow to never forget that Monday morning is trash day again.
bwahahahahahaha We used to always forget trash monday too.
Then we moved to the big city where trash day is Friday.
That’s the only reason we moved here.
No, really.
I think that part of the reason that I forget the trash is that it’s summer but also because they have moved our trash day around so much in the past few months that I don’t know if I am coming or going.
Your writing makes trash morning an adventure! Nicely done; getting the trash taken away and writing about.
I’m so happy putting out the trash is David’s job. If it were mine it would never get done.
My imagination just went crazy with the image of you running, lugging a trash bin, and boobs flapping!
I have had no clue what day it is since summer started.
I found a solution to that problem. I just leave the trashcan on the side of the road all week, so I dont have to remember
Now why didn’t I think of that?!
We made up a little song at our house to help us remember trash day. Perhaps you could do the same. Of course the school schedule will help, too, as you said.
HA HA HA! I’m only laughing because well, BTDT!! When we just moved here and I was VERY pregnant with K I was not used to the trash schedule here either and I did the same damn thing with my pregnant boobs all out for the world to (or trash guys) to see. It was fabulous, lemme tell ya! Never forgot trash day again…
Unfortunately I have forgotten the trash day as well. Thankfully never flashed the trash man! I’m dying laughing over here!
I HATE missing trash day! It has happened several times to us and there’s just not much worse than a stinky trashcan for seven days. And I too am kinda glad that school is starting to get back to a routine, but I will miss the sleeping in, that is fo’ sho!
They must see some interesting pyjamas and, er, other sights in their profession!
I am sure that a trash man has TONS of stories of interesting sites they have seen.
You did get the garbage up and I think that counts more than flashing the guy. … Made your garbage guy about as happy as the day the ex put out all his old “guy style” (you know what I mean…) magazines for recycling, the bag ripped as the garbage guy picked it they went EVERYWHERE! (I was washing dishes so I saw everything happen) the guy cursed then bent over to pick them up and saw what they were. He scooped them up and went through the WHOLE bag!! Took the bulk himself and threw a few into the back of the truck.
Dude walked away smiling…
M
I hate trash day…there’s nothing worse than knowing you’ve missed it and have to deal with the smell of stinky garbage for another 7 days.
He he! Boobs for Trash Pick Up.
Hot.
So glad trash is not my job. It would just be a heap in the garage by now covering our cars.
Okay so here’s the thing. For the average day having teenagers sucks ass BUT when it comes to shit like trash/recycle day? It rules. Because if THEY forget I can punish them…hee hee hee. See what you have to look forward to? Also? Since they’re older, my rule is, you get your own ass up and off to the bus stop. If you miss the bus? You walk. It works…let me tell you. BUT…I still have a 3 yo at home to so there’s that.
Thinks makes me so happy. I can’t wait until the kids are old enough to take out the trash AND mow the lawn. Hayden is almost 8… a couple more years.
Well, you made his day! Our trash pick up is Thursdays and I sometimes forget.
Nothing worse than missing trash day….:)
Before we moved, we were lucky, we had TWO trash days, so if you missed one, there was another one coming right up (Wednesday and Saturday). So, the thing I always missed was recycle day. It is only every OTHER Thursday, so if you miss it, you have to wait another two weeks and then you have a month’s worth of crap in the bin.
I want two trash days… that is just not fair.
We always miss one of the trash days Lol. Funny story though
One thing I actually like about apartment living, not having to deal with stuff like this, because that would totally be me!
Lol! Too funny- thankfully my husband takes out the cans as otherwise I think I would always forget too