Saturday, March 2, 2013

How Trash Bags Changed My Life

It's not just me, you know.

Everyone has a little crazy in their life.

And my life would NEVER be as fun and crazy without my kids, my family and my friends.

This all started because I NEEDED TO BUY TRASH BAGS.

Remember the story "Not In The Cards?"

If you don't, feel free to read it..if you don't want to read it, here is a brief synopsis:

I do not usually buy greeting cards. The pressure to find the perfect card, like MY SISTER ALWAYS does, is almost unbearable. AND I like to think that I convey to my family and friends on a daily basis, exactly how much I love them, treasure them, and wish them days full of joy EVERY Day.

Not just on birthdays, Mother's, Father's, Grandparents, Cousin's, Sibling's Days, Because You Have The Sniffles, Valentine's, or You've Had An Ingrown Toenail Removed, You Are Trading In Your Vehicle, but everyday.  You get my point? There are cards now for EVERYTHING. And my amazing sister will always find it. Not even because she is looking, per se. Just because she is the "Card Whisperer."

I love you, Katie.

An so as my Dad's birthday came upon us, I felt the pressure build once again.

It's not that I don't WANT to buy cards...although the asking price of $4.99( US) AND the added struggle to find the envelope that it fits into can literally put a frugal, fragile card-buying-phobe right over the freaking's just...well...overwhelming, looking up a the walls and walls of "What Is A..."

And of course, the fear of my usual reaction of having to urgently find a rest room mid-selection.

And so, the day before his birthday, I really wasn't even THINKING about a card when I entered the grocery store to buy trashbags.

Milk. Cereal. Bread. check. check. check. ( I mean, there WAS ANOTHER DOOMSDAY WEATHER FORECAST)..

And as I approached the last of the aisles, I happened to look up at the dangling announcement overhead..."SEASONAL, PAPER GOODS, GREETING CARDS."

Did I have to pee? Nope.

I had yet to break a sweat.

I turned my cart and forged my way down the aisle.


Here we go. Deep breath. One more pee check.


Now, what happened next was really nothing short of a miracle.

"What Age Does Girl Stop Needing Her Dad?"

I slowly picked the card from its slot.

Opened it...praying that the inside had the right answer, and not some crazy musical rendition of "Wind Beneath My Wings..."

Let's just say, it was perfect. AND the right envelope was actually behind it.


I did the cha-cha right there in Hannaford.

Oh, but now...I couldn't just get him one from me, My hubby and kids would want to be included, too.

I was feeling good.

I once again browsed up a few rows and once again...could it be?


One from "Both of Us."

It was perfect. Not sappy. And literally sounded like something I would tell my Dad. And it was pretty...but not in a rainbow and sunrise kind of way. It was simple and classy.


And now one from the kids, always pretty easy, and I was off!

The streak was OVER.

I had found what I thought to have not just one...BUT THREE good, solid cards.

I crossed over to the wine aisle.

This would have to be celebrated!

Where didn't I go? To the trash bag aisle. That's where.

So really, why is this so significant? Read on...

I called my sister to tell her the news. I wanted her to be proud of me.


"Katie, you will not believe what I did today!"


"I BOUGHT CARDS!!!!!!!" I sang and yelled.

We celebrated together!!!!! I KNEW she would be shocked and proud.

I breathlessly told her about the first card.

She was quiet.


"Well," she started..."That is a good one, but I don't think any card is better than the one that I bought."


I believed her.

"What does it say?" I asked, already defeated.

"It says, 'To one of us you're dad, To the other you are..."

"FATHER IN LAW!!!!!!!!" I finished with her.


It was the same card that I bought from Chris and me!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I was screaming with joy!!!

She was in shock.

I had purchased the same card as the QUEEEEEENOFCARDBUYING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I had arrived.


Now this little competition is really all in fun. And honestly, it really isn't competition. It's just kind of like if I was an actress in a movie for the first time, and beat Meryl Streep for an Oscar. Or at the least, Tied.

I'm still not over it.

Moving on....

So on the day of my my Dad's actual birthday, we were supposed to meet for dinner.

I had a million little errands to run beforehand, and time was of the essence.

You see, in my excitement about finding the cards, I forgot trash bags at the store.

I know, mind boggling. But there is a lot of trash here at Crazy Road.

I also told my friend that I would stop by her house so that I could pick up this special shampoo that she picked up for me...(SHE is a hairdresser).

She is also one of those friends that when we start gabbing it is hard to stop. So today, I had to preface my visit by saying, " I absolutely cannot stay. I have to get to the store before dinner."

"Perfect," she said, "I am doing a perm so just come down and pick it up."

So a little later than I planned, I arrived at her house.

I walked in, and the house was unusually quiet.


I went downstairs to where her salon is...

No one.


I went back upstairs and called out again.

And what happened next was crazy!!!

She came around the corner, pale, breathless...holding a bloody towel...

"My have to come and help!!!"

What the @#$%?!

Had there been a murder? Had there been a cat/client/perm fiasco? Was I being asked to help clean up a crime scene? Was I going to make it to the store to buy trashbags?

She grabbed my hand and dragged me behind her...




I walked into her little girl's room to see her kids, a lady on her knees with her perm-rodded head wrapped in plastic, and a cat. And two teeny-tiny-baby-kitties.


"What do I do?" She was absolutely in shock.

"You didn't know she was PREGNANT?"


None of us knew what to do.

Except for her amazingly smart 4 Year old, who promptly fetched some plastic gloves for her mom.

We all just sat around Miley, the mom-cat. Wondering what would happen next.

"Oh my God, Look. She Is Going To Have Another One!" My friend said, and I have to rinse her!" (Referring to her client, as shocked and surprised as anyone.)

"How do you know?" I asked.

"Look at her eyes!"

I felt queasy. The room started to spin. I grabbed my friend, and the stranger perming next to me.

Now, I am not a "cat-person." I don't dislike them, but I am definitely a dog-person. I am definitely NOT a birth expert. Well, at least seeing it from the other end. Of anyone or anything.

And then, it happened.

The cat's eyes closed in pain, her belly started contracting...

Should I grab my shampoo and run?

And then she let out a noise, that in any language, cat, dog, or human, could only indicate the pain of child birth.

Then all by herself, with no doctors or meds or pacing partners...she delivered two more kittens.


The three of us human moms all sat around her, encouraging her, amazed at this creature, feeling love and admiration for her and her babies. Life is so amazing.

I guess I do like cats.

Well, needless to say, I DID make it to the store, and to dinner, and then home to homework and showers and bedtime and everything routine...but my life had changed a little bit...

At the end of the night, I opened the box of trash bags.

They were the wrong ones.

Thanks For Reading.