Our smelly ass cats in 2003, when they were still cute (Black Jack Cusack and Sydney Bristow-Taurel)

I don’t know WHAT came over me tonight, but for the first time in my married life, I felt compelled to take the garbage to the curb. It is a task I gladly handed over at the very second I answered, “Yes, yes I will marry you.” Greg has never minded garbage on his task list, and I took the toilet cleaning. It’s a fair trade. But tonight Greg had a work thing, and I thought he might get in late. I have no clue what even made me remember tonight was trash night, considering I’ve never taken it out. Normally, Greg would do the kitty litter tonight, another task he agreed to take as a bargain while talking me into getting the cats. But last night I begged him to go ahead and do it (oh God the stench), and he did. Had I been faced with trash and litter, there is just NO WAY IN HELL I would have done either.

Not too mention, because of our trip last week, we have two solid weeks of garbage. Diaper ridden garbage. Of the trillion bags I hauled to the curb, one was too heavy for me to lift. It was a super duty strength bag, so I tried to drag it. I made it to the curb before I realized the entire bottom had ripped open, littering our driveway with God knows what. I grabbed another bag, and started cleaning (and cursing under my breath). When I reached the ripped open bag, I tried to lift it and tuck the new bag around it. A small bundle of fabric, tied together with old strings rolled right out onto my hand.

Oh-My-God. HOW in sweet Jesus’ name did that get in there? That bundle was made for me by a friend in high school as a joke. The fabric are scraps from several theater costumes I made for our high school shows. She told me it was a good luck charm to keep in my car. That old, faded bundle of fabric has been pulled, soaking wet, from a destroyed Honda (called the Martian) my prom date drove into 5 feet of water. On New Year’s Eve. Do you know how cold it is in Indiana on New Year’s Eve? It was pulled from a Ford Explorer (named Eddie) I flipped off a highway when I hydroplaned in a rainstorm. I drove out to a junk yard and retrieved it from my Infiniti (my favorite car, Big Al) after a woman ran a red light and blindsided me in morning traffic.

Greg would argue that fabric is decidedly unlucky. I disagree. In all of those accidents, I was barely injured. And since that accident in 2000, I’ve never seen so much as a knick on my cars. I am quite certain I pulled it from my Subaru (The Gray Lady) and placed it in my minivan. I’m sure Greg will come home and tell me that he found it and asked if he could toss it, and in some postpartum haze, I agreed. He’ll call me crazy for not remembering an entire conversation about my lucky fabric bundle. But before he gets home and reminds me that I forgot….I think the fates have interceded on my behalf. It is now safely back in my minivan, very appropriately named, “The Chicken Box”.

Have you just ever had a moment that totally creeped you out like that?