Is that a bag of dog shit or have you been gardening again?
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I’m not much of a gardener so my flower beds and shrubs are never going to be featured in Better Homes and Gardens. Well, if they had a Do and Don’t section it might make it under the Don’t column. Anyway, I don’t weed often in spring and summer and I never fertilize the grass, but sometimes I wonder what the lawn could look like if I gave it a half-assed effort.
Back to the weeding, though.
When I’m outside with the kids I like to do something, rather than working on my tan and making sure they don’t play in traffic. I usually play with them but sometimes I don’t feel like hula-hooping, jumping rope or racing scooters. But I will say I’m pretty damn fast on a scooter and my balance is tip top, gingah.
So when I don’t feel like winning another scooter race I pull weeds and since I don’t maintain the weeds the job is usually pretty unwieldy. That’s when I pull out my handy dandy plastic grocery bag from Meijer. You know those ones that have the handles cut into them? I save those — not for the environment but for my own use when the mood strikes me. Might as well be honest about my motivation, right?
Those handles work out great when I have to abruptly stop weeding because someone’s wailing about a skinned knee. I can hang the bag of weeds on the iron handrail that goes up the steps to the porch — so it doesn’t fly away in the wind — while I channel my inner Florence Nightingale. Then, when I’m ready to face the weeds again, I can snatch the bag off the end of the post.
A nice work-around, eh?
That method, which I’ve never explained to Mr. C, was firmly in place last summer. And one morning, while we were standing on the porch before he left for work, he noticed that bag hanging from the handrail. He looked from the bag to me and furrowed his brows while asking, “Is that a bag of dog shit from the neighbors?”
I immediately started laughing and then he followed up with, “That’s harsh. We haven’t been that rude, have we?” Which implied that we have been rude, but not quite enough to incite retaliation in his opinion.
So then I actually bent over with more laughter.
We aren’t close to any of our neighbors; we’re not slashing each other’s tires but we’re not sending pies back and forth either. We keep it friendly and sophisticated. While we don’t have any pets almost all of them have dogs.
Obviously Mr. C feels there’s enough of a barrier there that he actually thought we might have dissed one of them enough that they sent us a message via a bag of shit.
When I stopped laughing, I explained my gardening brainstorm and then he started laughing, too. And so far no one has left a bag of shit on our porch. But summer’s coming.
Tags: Things that require my sarcasm
Great story. I use those bags for all sorts of similar purposes, although for the most part I now use those reusable grocery bags so I don’t get that many plastic bags anymore. If you have a dog, the bags are great for pooper scooper activities on walks because you can use it as a glove to pick the stuff up and then tie it into a neat little package and the handles allow you to easily carry it to the next trash can.
I love that glimpse into Mr. C’s mind, makes me wonder what prompted him to go to the dog shit in a bag….did he do something simlar in the past?…did he see/hear of that happening to someone else??? ;)
Thanks Buf! Those are multi-purpose bags, aren’t they?
I did ask Mr. C your question — he said you always see people who walk dogs carrying them and that’s why he assumed it was filled with a hot, steamin’ pile.
Doesn’t everyone keep those? They’re just so handy. I’m really anal about bare trash cans even in the bathrooms, so that’s why I always have them. I hate when I throw too many away and end up needing one.
That’s a good story. I’m notorious in our family for getting so tickled I can’t explain why I’m so tickled. Once I start really laughing, it takes til my side starts to hurt to calm down. Reminds me, need to find a comedy club.
I just throw my weeds in piles behind the bushes. I hate shrubbery. Just amused myself thinking of Monty Python.
They’re very handy, indeed.
Not a fan of Monty Python so I have no idea what you’re referring to, but it seems like throwing them in a pile on dirt would make them grow again, but in a different spot. Behind the bushes, in this case.
Monty Python was big among the band folk in high school so the Holy Grail is the only one I have seen but it’s worth a watch.
Well, we had this big ole row of azaleas so I could just throw them back there and the few that did try and grow you couldn’t see, but the pile almost always completely died.
BRING ME A SHRUBBERY!!!! CG, you need to see Monty Python and the Holy Grail. Funny stuff there.
I’ll get on that immediately.
For me it’s always tan first, keep kids out of traffic second. :)
We used to be so good with the weeds until the kids were born. I think once the little guy (turns 1 on Wednesday) is old enough to entertain himself outside, the yardwork will improve again. We will see.
Also, the bag of poo doesn’t really count unless it’s set on fire. Just sayin’
paul
It is important to have your priorities straight when you’re dealing with children.
I use reusable grocery bags almost exclusively, but I ask my husband to stop by the commissary on his way home often enough that we always have those grocery bags on hand. I use them when I scoop the cat box — never a fun job, but hey, someone’s got to do it.
My neighbor M has a dog named Jessie. She’s a sweet old dog, a chocolate retriever who’s a really good huntin’ dog (no kidding — there are tons of stuffed dead animals in M’s house that Jessie brought down when she went hunting with M’s husband). M doesn’t have a fence to her backyard, so Jessie wanders at will. Apparently M’s backyard neighbor A, who is also fence-less, got really pissed off when Jessie would poop in her backyard.
Why, I’m not quite sure, as A also has a dog, but I guess A was vigilant about picking up her dog’s poo. Anyhow, M got a nasty-gram from housing saying that folks were complaining about Jessie’s potty habit. M thought it was kind of funny, and wondered why A didn’t just pick up Jessie’s poo in a bag and leave it on M’s front porch. She said it would have gotten A’s point across a bit better.
It’s all a moot point now, since A moved away and didn’t even bother saying goodbye to anyone in the neighborhood.
You’re so green, blue. When we had cats that’s the *only* kind of bag I used for scooping duties. That’s so funny that M would have been cool with a bag of shit on the porch, just to let her know where she stood on the matter with A. It would be dicey, nonetheless, trying to tell the neighbor to pick up her dog’s crap when the dog ran into her yard. Wouldn’t that be an awkward conversation?
We have no dogs, only kids! I’ve reused those Wal-Mart bags to put poopie pampers in, and discard.
I also used them for diaper discards; I forgot all about that! My youngest (knock on wood) is full potty-trained — all day, all night. So we threw away the diaper genie and every memory of diapers along with it. Praise Jesus.
Hey, if anybody is gonna get a bag of shit from the neighbors, it’s gonna be me. I hate my neighbors. All of them. Mofos.
Alright Lin. I like the fact that you fully own it.
Good one.
I keep those plastic bags too. For the bathroom garbage can or to hang on the door to remember to take something to my mother’s house.
“Is that dog shit?”
HA!
Thanks, I thought it was extremely funny as well. Those bags have a lot of good uses, I have tons of them hanging in a bag on a hook in the basement.
LOL – this is so funny.
Thanks Dom!