When living in a house with family there are usually three types of people. The tell them what to do kind, the insinuate what to do kind, and then the kind that just do it on their own. No conversation or post-it note reminder required. Unfortunately I happen to live with the first two.
If you have family you know exactly what I’m talking about. It’s simple. It really is and your frustration mounts because you expect people to have common sense. I mean they’re related to you by blood or marriage. The common sense gene is there, but perhaps you realize you’re unique.
Case in point.
The trash can. Once it gets full you should really throw it out. Common sense, right? I mean even in Spanish it’s common sense. No need to play a game of Tetris and try to challenge the scales of gravity with Gatorade bottles or the dangerous empty jar of pickles teetering on the verge of disaster. At this point you would think somebody other than yourself would throw out the trash, because you just finish washing the dishes and are currently folding three loads of laundry. Does this happen?
Instead you see the chancla smash. Somebody finishes that last of the Ritz Crackers and instead of pulling the bag out and making a trip to the garbage bin, they squash that cardboard box down and test the elasticity boundaries of that Costco kitchen trash bag.
Then comes the paper towels. They place them ever so gently on top so as not to create a landslide of garbage, but with every open and close of the refrigerator door, they fall onto the floor.
You see the can overflowing. They see the can overflowing, but the trash and food scraps keep getting piled on. The lid doesn’t even close anymore. It’s at a forty-five degree angle.
You begin to wonder what’s the breaking point. I mean do you really have to make a suggestion? Yeah … you do. Hey don’t you think that trash is getting full? They pull up on the red drawstrings and hoist the bag out.
But what about the other member of your household, do you think he learns from this experience? It happens every week. They see what you see. Do you honestly have to say … hey can you throw out the trash? Yeah you do.
And just when you’re happy with the fact that the trash has been thrown out, you walk over to the trash can, baby in one arm, paper plate in another, and sippy cup being gripped by your teeth. You step on the foot pedal that raises the trashcan lid and you dump out the remaining food scraps and juice box.
But you don’t hear that familiar swish as they hit a plastic trash bag. You hear a thud. A pinche thud.
No replacement bag. The Costco-sized box is sitting on a shelf above the trash can, holding at least 100 bags in its roll
You hang your head and exhale.
Yes … sometimes the common sense gene skips a generation.