Sunday, January 15, 2006
Me, the garbage picker.
I have become a garbage picker in my own home. The boys finally cleaned out their room today. They managed to get rid of a bunch of stuff that they grew out of, like stuffed animals, etc. I can't seem to throw the stuff away, I gather all of it up and make a trip to Goodwill for donation. I can't see it going in the garbage when it is still good stuff, when I know that some little kid that doesn't have as much might end up with it. Much better than ending up buried in some stinky landfill somewhere. My daughter did the same thing, she handed me a bunch of stuff to go into the trash, when I said "Are you crazy? Some little kid might like that." She tried to tell me that she is a kid and knows that other kids won't want it. Okay, well maybe not another thirteen year old, but an eight year old probably would. GEEZ!!
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Actually my daughter is very empathetic. I'm actually kind of surprise that she even said that. Because of her I have ended up in some awkward situations, and other times drove home with her crying because of something she witnessed. Oh and if she is watching a sad movie, and she starts to cry, pretend you don't even notice. If she knows that you noticed, she will run to her room balling, totally embarrassed. I'm the same way, but I usually do a kind of laugh/cry at the same time thing. My kids think I am weird.
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