Alex and I have been cleaning our house, you know, the whole spring cleaning thing, that and we’re participating in the community yard-sale, do the math. Anyways, by the end of the day, we have MOUNDS of garbage bags, boxes, etc. We’re pack-rats and it shows.

The house however, is spotless, though there are some noticeable gaps where our junk used to be.

We took the first load of trash up around four-ish, Alex was carrying two heavy as hell garbage bags and I was pulling my daughter, Nicole’s, wagon laden down with an assortment of things. Alex and I decided we’d take the rest up later on, when the sun had set, when it was cooler.

Ya know, it’s hot and all.

Time: 9:47 P.M.

Whiny Child Status: Occupied with Care Bears Journey To Joke-A-Lot, Gramma B can handle that.

So we set off. This time, Alex is pulling the wagon. Inside the wagon? An old IBM computer monitor, a deader then dead fax/copier/printer machine, a broken plastic basket, a dented popcorn tin, trash, trash, more trash. I’m carrying this wide ass narrow box, a Dora The Explorer table and chairs set came in it, so it’s bulky and awkward as hell. Inside? Modems, CD-ROM drives, floppy drives, etc. We’re computer junkies if you haven’t noticed by now.

Alex gets this BRIGHT idea, let’s cut across the neighbors yard on the way to the dumpsters, it’ll muffle the wagon tires. That and we had to sneak out the back door so Nicole didn’t hear us. Understand, we live in a ‘mobile home’ park, not a trailer park, a MOBILE HOME park. *snorts*

And, sadly, it’s full of stuck-up, rich people, mainly old people. The lot besides us is empty so we creep on the outside of the fence, between the vacant lot and our elderly neighbors. Then, the basket and tin topple, with a LOUD noise. Alex and I freeze. I moved off to stand in the vacant lot, puffing away on my Basic Light 100 while Alex picks up, we’re both waiting for the police to show up or something, laughing at the absurdity of the situation.

I mean, come on, we look like we just robbed someone. Getting busted for robbing ourselves would’ve been pretty damn hilarious.

Finally, we’re on the blacktop. The wagon is rattling as it goes but luckily for Alex, the weight of everything in it makes the noise minimal. We get halfway to the dumpsters, some guy walks by, staring at us like we’re damn fools. Alex is blushing, I have Dora The Explorer covering my head, yeah, we looked like damn fools.

Fast forward to the return trip.

I’M pulling the damn wagon now and it’s NOISY. There’s nothing in it to weight it down so it’s making thing loud bumping and rattling noise that I finally dim by dragging the damn thing over the neighbors neatly mowed grass, all through the park. We come to a crossing, both of us groaning.

‘We look stupid.’ Alex sighs.

‘We should’ve done this during the day.’ Was my reply. ‘At least then we don’t look like we’re were robbing somebody.’

‘Yeah, but it’s too hot. I’d rather look stupid and be cooled off then look stupid and roast my ass off.’

So, we make the crossing. Only we’re doing it Elmer Fudd style, all dramatic, one leg raising high into the air, knee bent sharply, like we’re stalking something, lol. Humiliation factor doubles when a car drives by, SLOWLY, the windows down and the driver and passenger both staring at us, laughing their asses off.

Yeah, we’ll do this during the day next time. At night, after ‘quiet’ time, yeah, you get the picture, right?

As soon as I step through the door, Gramma B smiles. ‘Ly, your daughter is taking a healthy shit, welcome home.’