The backstory: Mother’s Day when you are a single mama isn’t much of a holiday. But for the last few years T has kindly stepped in to organize a celebration. As the day she approaches, she has asked what I would like for Mother’s Day. I’ve said breakfast out and floral baskets for the porch but she has urged me to name a few more items. I’ve deferred, but yesterday she had a new idea, one inspired by the fact that my trash bin had a hard winter and no longer has a functioning lid.
Me: This morning, that broken lid bit me. At 7 am, on my way to the infuriating 7:30 am meeting, I found that my trash bin had been tipped over, the bag of trash torn open, and bits of food were strewn in the driveway.
T: Bummer. We should get you a new trash bin for Mother’s Day.
Me: No jury in the world would convict me for the violence that would follow such a gift. I’ll be on the witness stand, “Yeah, I shot ‘em in the foot. THEY GAVE ME A TRASH BIN FOR MOTHER’S DAY.” The judge will be all, “gotcha, shoot ‘em in the hand now.”
T: We’d have to pay the court fines.