Trash days

Today is trash day. Saturdays and Wednesdays. This morning as I was taking the trash out (early I might add since we've missed it the past two weeks... Gross!) I was reflecting on my adulthood. I was thinking about the exact point I can remember thinking... yep, I've arrived. Adulthood, hello. You might think this point was when I was first living on my own, or got a real job, or got married, or moved across the country with the huz. Nope, none of those points. The point I distinctly remembering realizing I had entered adulthood was a trash day, the Saturday one, and looking at Jamon as I was making breakfast and realizing that either him or myself needed to hurry and take the trash out if we hadn't already missed it. My dad, who if I remember correctly was always tasked with garbage duty, was not going to take the trash out for me. He was not going to just get it done. I actually had to think about trash days and bringing the garbage can out to the street. Hello adulthood. I'll have the garbage on the curb waiting for you. Suffice it to say, I've missed my fair share of trash pick ups. I forget... and where is my dad when the trash needs taken out? Sheesh.

That's it. That's all I've got this morning. Just wanted to share a moment with you.