The Rolling Receptacle

It probably started simply enough. A candy wrapper tossed at my feet. A toll booth receipt stuck in the center console. An empty water bottle wedged between seats.

But then there were the lollipop sticks…affixed to the floor with their damp, sugary residue… an inoperable umbrella, and the black heels that were killing my feet last Saturday.

And a princess coloring book.
The odd french fry that got away.
Discarded tissues.
Cans of kitten food that liberated themselves from grocery bags.
A tennis ball.
Mangled shards of sticky construction paper — “art projects” — that departed from daycare and never reached their destination.

And on and on and on. Until our car grew into a bag-lady’s purse on wheels and I couldn’t be sure if my foot was pressing the brake or an empty Red Bull can.

Last night, I couldn’t take it anymore. After three super-sized social weekends, sandwiched between work, the car debris was burbling to window-level. Something had to be done.

Besides, I couldn’t find my wallet.

Oh, I knew it was in there. Somewhere in the depths, beneath store receipts, muddy dog towels, lunch boxes and bits of Halloween costumes. Armed with a snow shovel, I commenced digging under the interior light’s glow.

A half-hour later I unearthed my wallet and the car belched up the following collection of household items, clothing and foodstuff:

I wish I could say that I just swept this mess into the trash and kicked it to the curb, but instead I strapped on my Tinkerbell wings (so that’s where they were…), and flitted around the house, scattering books, jackets and shoes from room to room, in fairy dust fashion. What a relief to rediscover the car’s gas and brake pedals. And my old friend the passenger seat! Now, another human could travel with me! As an added bonus, I even threw some stuff out.

But with every clutter-cutting step I take forward, there’s a crap-collecting demon in our midst.

This morning, Martin told me that he couldn’t sleep last night.

I couldn’t sleep last night.

Sorry to hear that.

Yea, so I was up watching TV and I saw this product on an infomercial that I really wanted.

You didn’t buy it, did you?

It was called the Oreck ProShield Air Purifier.

Martin, you didn’t get it, did you?

I thought it would be great for the kids’ room.

You DIDN’T -get – it ….did you?

It came with a free refrigerator purifier. And a free hand vac! 

How much was it?

That’s the thing – they never said. But if you didn’t like it after 30 days, you could return it and keep the fridge purifier AND the hand vac as a gift!

Thankfully, Martin suppressed his shopping addiction. But I swear to God: tonight, I’m drugging him with ambien.

And I’m throwing his wallet in the car.  It won’t take too long before clothes, happy meal boxes and art projects swallow it up.