Friday is trash pick-up day at the Showalter house. As we pulled into our garage last night Brian said, "Huh, there's an extra trash can sitting there." We inherited another trash can. Weird, but not so weird.
This morning we were sitting outside drinking coffee and playing fetch with Reggie. All of sudden Brian says, "I hope there's not like, a dead baby in that trash can." I gasped in horror, nearly choking on my mouth-full of coffee, wondering what in the world could have made Brian come up with this possibility.
He walks to the trash can, checks it, returns to me and reports, "No dead baby."
A few moments later he says, in a matter-of-fact tone, "It happens you know."
Phew! I guess we narrowly averted that messy situation.
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