After reading that title, I’m sure most of you are thinking – “OMG! What kind of mother are you?”
Under cover of darkness not for any nefarious reason but because of poor planning on my part. My daughter and I filed as quietly as we could into the back yard. The light from a half moon illuminated bits of the yard more than I had expected. The stars shine brightly and the air was chilly spring fresh. Sitting up against the rain barrel was the “corpse.”
It was an eye sore and had been there for some time. A while ago my husband and I had replaced the toilet in our bathroom and unfortunately the old dead toilet only made it to the back yard and no further. My husband had to go back to work and never took it to the dumpster. It has added a very redneck accent to the yard.
Normally I would have carried it to the dumpster myself and that would be the end of it. However with my shoulder out of commission I couldn’t lift the body of the Porcelin God. The City is doing an alley cleanup tomorrow and it’s the perfect time to get rid of the skeletal remains. Unfortunately I lacked the help to get it to the alley until today.
So after my son was asleep I drafted my poor daughter to help me. I had a great plan. Instead of trying to carry the rather heavy toilet we would use a tool, the kid’s sled. We lifted the carcas up onto the purple plastic sled. She pulled while I steadied it.
We slid it from one end of the yard to the other on the grass because it was quieter and there was less resistance. We started to laugh as we realized the complete absurdity of what we were doing. By the time we hit the sidewalk that follows the side of the garage to the alley and heard that first scrape of plastic on concrete we had lost all control.
Simultaneously with timing any comedian would envy, we both put finger to lips, “Shhhhhh!”
Like two drunks trying to be quiet we giggled and scrapped and periodically hushed each other. We were certain that we were probably waking every neighbor for blocks. Once we hit the gravel in the alley it got even louder and honestly so did our laughter.
Eventually the cadaver of the Porcelin God had been deposited next to the dumpster and my teenager now knows how to dispose of a dead body.
Life skills, folks. Life skills.
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