Oh wait. Never mind. He'll see my descent into the abyss tomorrow when he mows the lawn.
I "garbage-picked" today. And what's more, apparently I'm proud of the fact because here I am telling all 7 of my readers out here in the middle of cyberspace.
Here's how it went down:
The girls and I took a lovely evening stroll through the 'hood while Aaron was at his monthly board meeting. As we rounded the bend, there they were, set by the curb of an elderly neighbor around the corner's home: five perfectly good, forest green, molded plastic patio chairs.
Without thinking, I hurried the girls back home, jumped in the van and returned to the site of my find. I pulled up to the curb and got out to inspect the chairs. I did all of this on brain autopilot. It was like a gene that had long lay dormant kicked in. And yes, it IS genetic. Paternally genetic. (I'll say no more since the provider of said gene reads this blog.)
Then the gravity of what I was about to do hit me. Hard.
I got back into the driver's seat of my vehicle and began to think about the activity in which I was about to participate: Garbage picking. In broad daylight. While people were in their yards. Was I seriously going to do this???
"What are we doing here, Mom? Do you know these people? Why are we just sitting here?" a concerned voice from the backseat asked.
And then I was resolute. Heck, yes, I was going to do this.
"I'm taking these chairs, Kayla."
"Isn't that stealing?"
"No honey, the people are throwing them out."
So I popped the hatch and proceeded to maneuver the five chairs into the back of my van.
Then much to my chagrin, the elderly owner of these rescued treasures was suddenly standing on the sidewalk. An extremely awkward conversation (on my part of course, because I'm socially inept) transpired in which the quality of the chairs was verified and an offer of a matching table was made - which I politely declined. I cordially thanked him and we said our goodbyes.
Then I jumped into the van and headed home.
"You're just like an alley cat, Mom," Kayla declared. "You go through garbage."
And I couldn't argue with that. But who cares? I've got some nice patio chairs. I might start doing this on a regular basis.
Then again, maybe I won't.