the dumpster duo
Thursday, August 27, 2009 at 4:19AM There are, as far as I can tell, two kinds of bonding experiences. There's the kind you plan, such as when you keep your Saturday night schedule clear and make sure there's enough popcorn and board games to spend a couple of good hours with the kids. And then there's the kind that you don't plan, such as the day I went dumpster diving with my mother-in-law.
It was three Januaries ago when I began (again) the long process of sorting, cleaning, thinning out, and packing all the big and little things in our rental house in California. I had stacks of books and household stuff on the floor, on the piano, the table, the shelves, and two little children rummaging through the whole lot when my mother-in-law walked in.
She took a long look around, hands on her hips, and said, "Is there a liquor store near here?" I hadn't thought packing was that bad, but maybe she had a good idea, come to think of it. "For boxes," she said. "They have the best boxes." Oh. Of course.
So we packed the little children in the van and went to scout out the local liquor store. Apparently they knew we were coming, because there was a fence with a padlock around their precious garbage cans. So we went to Target, slid around back, and hit the jackpot. There was a big white dumpster, with a hole for putting collapsed boxes right in the side of it. The hole also worked admirably, it turned out, for taking boxes out. No matter that it said in big red letters on the side of the dumpster, "It is unlawful to occupy this container." We weren't occupying it. We were just sliding boxes out of the side.
After that we hit Payless, (whose boxes were too small) a furniture store (whoa, too big), and Barnes and Noble. It was at Barnes and Noble that we really found our prize. A whole big dumpster full of boxes that had only ever held books. Immediately I thought of all the stacks of books I had back at the house. Bingo. There was only one problem here. No hole in the side. This was a traditional-type dumpster, and it was only about half full.
For the first few boxes we were able to stand on the side of the dumpster and lift them out, carrying them and stuffing them into all the spaces in the van that weren't filled by wide-eyed children. But soon we could see that if we were going to get any more of BN's boxes, somebody was going to have to go in.
All the while, of course, we were looking over our shoulders, lest someone from the bookstore should happen to come out to throw in more boxes and find two crazy women lifting off their trash. So there was sort of a hurry on the whole situation as I stood looking down into the dumpster at the now-too-low stack of boxes. There was only one thing for it. I jumped in.
A dumpster definitely looks different from the inside than it does from without. There's the smallness, the squareness, and the knowledge that you, upstanding citizen and generally clean human being are inside a dumpster. Never mind that it's a clean, only-been-filled-with-cardboard dumpster. It's the principle of the thing.
Quickly I lifted more boxes out to my mother-in-law's waiting hands and jumped out to go home. We drove that blue van stuffed full of cardboard away from the back of Barnes and Noble screeching the tires like it was our getaway car. It was the Great Box Heist, the Cardboard Caper, and we were the Dumpster Duo. Just exactly the kind of bonding experience you plan for with your mother-in-law, right? Packing was tame stuff after that.
Now, every time I pass a dumpster full of cardboard, I think about stopping to get a box or two for things I need to pack up around the house. But all by myself I'm not brave enough. For serious dumpster diving, I'd need my partner in crime.
~Mother Bird~
Reader Comments (2)
I really thought this was my daughter writing this. We became obsessed with getting boxes when we moved from Columbus, GA, to Montgomery. Three years later, I can't pass a dumpster without my heart starting to beat faster and my car wanting to go that way. You're right, the bookstores do have the best boxes, but we struck gold at Pet Smart with kitty litter boxes. I hate to think about moving again, but that part does excite me a little. Last month, my daughter went into Books-a-Million and ASKED for boxes, and they let her go back and fill her car. Where's the fun in that?!
I remembered your words of advice to go to the Barnes and Noble..and that is where I got the best boxes when we moved....Fortunately for our huge move..Jim's friend who drives a truck--had a TON of boxes to share and I didn't have to go dumpster diving...but it was fun:) almost as fun as garage sales I guess!