Monday, July 07, 2008

Where Garbage Belongs

Little tiny toys, scraps, pieces and bits of all sorts of I-really-don't-know-whats are the bane of my existence. Nearly a full month into second trimester now, it hasn't been getting easier to bend over and pick the ubiquitous things up and my belly isn't big enough yet to hide them from view.

Whenever the children ask me for anything I tell them they can have it--anything-- if only they will pick up this room or that one and clear absolutely every bit off the carpet. They don't seem to see the things the way I do, as they invariably pick up only a third of what is there and leave the rest. I could call them back or I could finish it myself. I often call them back.

The other day as I was sighing over a livingroom full of bits plus one large toy garbage truck, an older boy asked me for a favor. Glad to have an older child's help, I asked that he just please clear the livingroom floor of everything and put every piece where it really belonged.

Ten minutes later the boy was already gone and enjoying his reward. I glanced at the livingroom and was glad to see the job done. There was only the toy garbage truck left behind. Since the job had been done more completely than usual, I didn't even think to call the child back. I just picked up the garbage truck to put it away myself. That's when the back opened up and dumped out every bit and scrap and thing that had been spread all over the livingroom carpet moments before. Though I probably should have, I didn't call the boy back.