Taking Out the Trash

So I was taking the trash can to the curb tonight when I had a chuckle. You see, I was remembering how, when I lived at home with my mom, taking out the trash was my job. This also included taking the full cans to the curb the night before the garbage truck came. And I HATED it! I mean, every Tuesday night the conversation at home went something like this: 

Mom: David? David?! David Micheal, did you take the garbage cans to the curb? 

Me: No. 

Mom: You need to do it! 

Me: Mom! I'm 16, you don't have to remind me every week! Gosh (said like Napoleon Dynamite)!

Mom: David, just do it please.

Me: Mom! (Whining) I'm tired! I'll get up early in the morning and do it (cause I'm such a morning person).

Mom: Okay! You'd better not forget!

The next morning one of two scenarios occurred:

     1. I would sleep in and the trash would pile up for another week, making the trash cans even heavier, or

     2. I would hear the garbage truck coming up the street and would jump out of bed, throw on some clothes, and run outside in hopes that I didn't miss the truck.

So that was how it went EVERY week, LOL. The point is this; I STILL hate taking the trash to the curb, but who else is going to do it now that I'm on my own? So thanks Mom for teaching me to be responsible. Love you :-)

PS - Don't get me started on how much I hate washing dishes!