Tuesday, July 23, 2013

Warning: Having FIVE excuses for not wanting to do something is overkill.

It occurred to me that I have been posting an inordinate amount of Wesley-isms.  So today, the focus is on Regan.  At 9:12 a.m. she managed to spout off FIVE different excuses on why she can’t roll the garbage can to the street for pickup.

1.       “I don’t have any shoes.”  While I know Dave and I are not the Donald Trump family of Georgia, I do know for a fact she has shoes and in no way does she resemble a poor child of Haiti going barefoot throughout the countryside.  She, again, lost her shoes thus re-earning the name “Princess Lose-It”.

2.       “I can’t wear your shoes.” I point out that she has been stealing my food, my towels and my drinks (non-alcoholic, of course) for 10 years and she is in no danger of contracting the deadly Mommy Cooties.

3.       “I can’t find the bug spray.” You might just think that this might fall under Excuse #1 but I was not asking her to undertake an arduous hike through the wilds of the African jungle.  Just roll the stupid bin to the street from the concrete pad to the road.  She would have never left the safety of the driveway.

4.       “I saw the garbage truck go by.” Nice try. The truck that rumbled by was hauling a back-hoe.  There is a distinct difference in the sound and appearance of Peach State Sanitation.

5.       “I am not strong enough to pull a full trash bin to the street.  The pizza box keeps falling out.”  Again Dave and I are not fabulously wealthy but we manage to feed her regularly including the aforementioned Little Caesar’s Pizza box from last night.

By the time it was said and done, Peach State was patiently waiting for our trash bin.  I was half tempted to throw Regan in the bin but I refrained.

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