My Captain takes the best care of me. I’ve never had it so good.
Sometimes he’ll do things for me that no one else in the world would:
1) want to,
2) take the time to,
and 3) stop rolling their eyes at me for wanting it in the first place.
A prime example: My kitchen trashcan.
I have always hated the way my old plastic kitchen trashcan looked in my old-fashioned, simple cottage kitchen. And I coveted some of the beautiful wooden trashcans I’d been seeing in various magazines, but they were all over $100.00 and come on…it’s a trashcan! I’m willing to help out the economy when I can…but a hundred bucks for something that I’m going to throw nastiness in makes my Scottish tummy twitch. Besides, none of them felt right. (For all you men out there, yes, a trashcan can feel right in a kitchen. For you gals…you know what I’m sayin’, right?)
So, the love of my life sat down when I wasn’t looking and designed the perfect trash can for me. Complete with special non-slamming hinges, a safety feature that prevents smooshed fingers, and an air escape design in the bottom so the bags wouldn’t puff up when I put them in.
He’s a genius, my man is.
He built it in an afternoon and let me and my Varmint paint it (red, of course) before he put the handle on it.
And get this….
He even special ordered me a moose handle. That’s love, man.
Please note the piece of dried spinach to the right of the moose antlers. ‘Cause that’s the way I roll.
My Captain thought of everything, I tell you!
Isn’t it totally cool?
Notice the crack in the front of the lid. Yeah, I did that within the first week. He mumbled a few things and fixed it. I have no problem ignoring it. But it is all My Captain can see when he looks at the trashcan now.
We’re different that way.
Also please notice the loose catfood on the floor next to it, and the mess the shoe rack is next to it. Thank you. We don’t worry about things like order here. We’re too busy and important to notice it.
Or we maintain delusion. One of those two. I forget which.
Well, all was going swimmingly with my new trashcan, which I LOVE, LOVE, LOVE! Until the cats, specifically Gracie, decided it was a great vantage point from which to inspect the goings-on in the kitchen. He likes to have his thumb on the pulse….er, his paw on the pulse, of the household.
And he refuses to move when I need to throw something out. Say, for instance, a greasy bacon package that I am desperately trying not to touch as much as possible. He does not care.