My Blue Box is Better Than Your Blue Box!
Until...
Mom! The neighbour took my Blue Box! .....Mom?
She's not answering. And why should she, I'm a grown man. But last time I had this type of, he took my lunch (blue) box, problem I was in the schoolyard. I'd talk to the guy about it, but conversations in the past have proven fruitless. It's like we're talking two different languages. And we are. I asked friends what I should do and they just laugh at me. Nobody understands! They all think I'm nuts, which gives great pleasure to my wife and validity to her analysis as to my mental state of mind.
"Just steal his!" They say. Problem solved! I have his! I want mine! Mine's new, it's the only nice thing that I was proud of carrying to the curb. My garbage cans are,...well garbage! I've been trying to throw one of them away for the past eleven years! Do you know how hard it is to throw away a garbage can? My green bin (on permanent loan from the city) needs an oil change. Oh it has oil, but I'd like a change. It looks like a greasy, oily backyard smoothie is all stuck to the sides after every garbage day. And the smell! Not my proudest moment wheeling that baby to and from the curb. But my Blue Box was new!
I had gone to the city works yard to look for cool stuff to bring home when bright blue boxes caught my eye. 'I use to have one of those!' I joked to a guy in an orange safety vest, 'but I ran over it on the lawn several years ago'. He questioned my driving ability and then told me to get a new Blue Box from the pile. And since he had a safety vest, and since I thought he worked there, and with some position, I took one. And, a new yellow plastic bag for paper as well.
Back home I show the wife my new Blue Box, yellow bag and the paint I picked up to paint the north side of the house. All for less than 30 bucks from the works yard I bragged. And here don't blow my good thing! She thinks that every time I go to the city works yard it costs money to drop off stuff and steal, I mean take stuff back home. It frees up a lot of weekends her thinking this, and gives me an extra allowance to spend on Monday Night Football at Boston Pizza (which she has been mislead to believe goes year round).
She give me the 'Aw Huh' in a dropping breathy tone that any married man takes for 'Good job Honey! I'm really proud of you! You get an extra pork chop tonight!' And so it was that I, spurred on with her positive affirmation, and in my best handwriting, wrote my address on two sides of the Blue Box with a giant black Magic Marker. It is now MY Blue Box, branded forever, or until the black ink fades away.
'So how did it wind up next door?' you ask. Well, every week it's a race between my neighbour and myself to bring in each others curb side trash canister arrangements after pick up (because we're both 12yrs. old). And he cheats! Sometimes he's waiting outside for the trucks. I think it's only fair that shoes can't go on till the truck has the material on board, and then you can go outside. But he doesn't understand English rules, and I think takes great delight in beating me to the curb. It's only when the trucks catch him on the toilet or he's out of the country that I win. And it was at a time when he was away, out of the country, and my defenses down that he obtained my Blue Box.
His kid took it!
I go out for the Blue Boxes and ones gone. Mine! His old sorry, cracked, faded box is there upside down with my new yellow bag under it but mine is nowhere to be seen. It shows up next week next to his old sorry one that I now have. So now, I have to be the adult about this and handle it properly, says the wife.
Now to be fair his kid probably made an honest mistake, he was just helping out mom while dad was away. He didn't see my fine penmanship of my current address and just took the best looking box. Honest mistake, because everything next door looks better than anything I have this door. Oh maybe my driveway would look better if I swept it everyday like they do. Or if I had a gardener prune my possies periodically. Or if my house was 50 yrs. newer or if I had a complete driveway made up from just one material, my house and yard would equal his in beauty. But, it is what it is. Home crap home.
I'll just wait till both boxes are emptied next week and then do the old switch-aroo. But guess who came back from China? Speedy Gonzales! And he makes the same mistake as junior! 'Oh look my boy got me a new Blue Box!' he must of thought,.. but in a different language.
"Okay next week, I'll get it next week." I comfort myself. I mean it's just a Blue Box, I don't really own it. I didn't pay for it, but it was the one thing I had over him. I had the better Blue Box. Two more weeks pass and my Blue Box still resides one door down. I make light of it to the wife and pretend its just a silly Blue Box. But it's more. It's something with my address on it. Its my brand!
If and when I ever get my Blue Box back, in an adult fashion, I'll never take it to the curb again. I'll just make 39 trips to the curb from then on, knowing that in my house I have a better Blue Box than him.
Bob Niles
(grade 6 mentality and apparently holding)
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