Friday, January 13, 2012

When I Find Out Who Stole My Damn Green Bin...

Seeing as how I live in the middle of nowheresville, there isn't usually too much for excitement.

(You will only realize how true this is after you read this post.  serious.)

The other day my green recycling box went missing.  I should clarify.  Someone stole it.

Since my husband is the biggest anti-recycler, I naturally assumed it was him.  (Spare me your grade 5 break down of the word get it.)  He seems to think it's a funny game to put glass jars and cardboard boxes in the garbage....little does he know a) I'm extremely motivated when trying to prove a point and b) I have more time on my hands than I care to let on.

After I gave him a ridiculous guilt trip, on how our landfills are filling up by the minute and that our children will be forced to live atop plastic bag mountains breathing air from bottles and hiding so that the acid rain doesn't scar their beautiful faces (what can I say, they've  inherited some good genes.), he still denied it.  Turns out he didn't do it.

But someone did.

Little do people know how much tom thievery irritates me. (Quick side note...if I ever meet a guy by the name of Tom Thievery and he turns out to be very non-irritating, I take this statement back.)

There are several solutions to this problem, and if I had children that slept more often I could perhaps pull a back alley stake out if this outfit:  (because everyone knows, the key to a successful stakeout is not being spotted.)

This solution poses a few issues.  First of all, this guy made his own damn suit. (How's that for overachieving!) Secondly, my back alley is fairly bare.  I will first have to plant some trees and bushes and then not mow or rake the back alley zone.  It's looking like a few years before my brilliant plan will come to fruition.  But just you wait....