To be fair....

DH is such a party-pooper. He made me take out the REAL name of the stinky ol' trash company (I'm joking about the mob connection, really....um, don't google that or anything), and he even would not let me REALLY call them liars, which, well, anyway, it was apparently only possible they were lying every time they told me they would call me back in an hour (and didn't) or email me back in two business days (and didn't), but I guess I can't refer to people as liars in my WORLD WIDE BLOG. I do hope my two readers (hey Mirren!) do realize that was written for laughs.

OK, on to the rest of the story....

They did pick up the trash.

They TOLD me (not lying, right?) that they would be there by noon. By noon, I had called three times to see if, in fact, they were still coming. They then said (not lying) that they would be there by 2:00. Next phone call? Not lying, they said they would be there by 4:00. During that phone call they made it clear that I would no longer be able to harass, um, call, them after 5:00. When the trash was still at the street by 5:00, I wrote my blog.

It was dark when we heard the truck. I had a sentry posted in the form of Sweet Girl who insists on playing outside in all kinds of weather wearing her new reindeer fuzzy jammies and wooly socks. She ran inside.

"Mom, the truck is coming".

At the exact same time, my phone rang. It was Perfect Daughter, on her way home from town.

"Mom, trash has been picked up along the main road."

We sprang into action. I sent Sweet Girl up to the gate to drag ONE of the 10 large bags almost into the street. Good luck telling me they didn't see my trash THIS time. I contemplated making a quick sign to point out our trash, but the poster board and paint were hard to find. Sweet Girl skipped back with alarming news.....

They passed us. At the exact same time I received another call from Perfect Daughter.

"Mom, for some reason, only the right side of the road is picked up".

Ah! They would get us ON THE WAY back. We're on the right on the way back. Surely, surely, they would stop. Even if it is a steep hill and they have ALWAYS gotten us on the way uphill. (That is, when they decided to actually pick up our trash.)

At this point, I offered Sweet Girl a dollar to stand out there and wave them down. Ok, a dollar and no dish duty that night.

For some reason, (perhaps the dark night, reindeer jammies and the fact that she is a little girl), she demurred. I asked Rowdy, who flat-out told me I was crazy. I thought about calling Perfect Daughter, but she is pretty articulate with the lawyering and all, so I let it go. I didn't want to hear her take on a mom who bribes her kids to stand in the cold and dark and wave down 25 ton trash trucks.

Instead, I lurked on the front porch. I waited and waited and waited. It was pretty cold so I went inside. Of course, the dogs (WHO HADN'T BEEN OUTSIDE ALL DAY) were also on high alert. I had pretty much assumed we had been forgotten again, when the truck actually did stop. It actually did pick up the bags. It actually was 7 o'clock. PM not AM, as they had told us last week.

So, they aren't liars. Not at all.