There is a trash monster in our midst.
I don’t know what it is, how big it is, or where it hides out during the day, but there is some food-loving animal around here that will go to great lengths to knock down our outdoor trashcan. It always manages to get the lid off, and tears through our rotten bananas and empty meat packaging. Brad thinks it’s a raccoon; I just think it’s gross and would like to go a week without picking shreds of margarine paper off the grass. It’s also kind of creepy that there are free-roaming animals out there that can knock over big trash cans. Hopefully, the offender will stay hidden and not decide to come out for his evening meal when we’re around.
Anyway [for lack of a more interesting segue]…
Brad and I were unpacking more tubs of stuff yesterday (a never-ending chore, by the way), when I looked over and saw him laughing at a piece of paper that was tucked in among a box of blankets:
I guess his Granny was going to come along with us in any way that she could. Gotta give her credit for sneaking one past us.
