My Father has collected these signs over the years, and they now hang in my childhood home’s garage. The one on the left side of the wall says, “Town Landfill Entrance On The Right.” The one on the right side of the garage says, “Town Landfill Entrance On The Left”. Then in the middle of the garage there hangs a sign that says “No Dumping Here.”
I chuckle each time I see them. Don’t ask me how he got them. But if you looked at the garage you’d laugh just because it looks kind of like a dump all over despite what the sign says. Too much junk, no room for any cars. It is sad.
I got up this morning, a bit fuzzy headed. Seems I caught a head cold from a bunch of kids coughing on me and wiping snot on me last week. Why does it always seem like Sunday, my day off, when I get sick. Convenient, but I want a good day off, not be sick.
I sat on the couch, resting. I could hear my husband’s truck rumbling in the driveway. I know he was getting up early today to go buy another wood boiler. Our other one got cracked when we had the “almost fire melt down”, a week ago. It has been so cold and we don’t like using oil to heat our house. So he is off to find another one. Hopefully a safer one this time.
He comes stomping into the house and dumps a load of verbal junk on me. “I am having the worst day!” He declares and continues to tell me everything that is going wrong for him. Then he says, “Where is the money?” I tell him and he says, “I gotta go.” He walks away leaving me holding on to the pile of junk that weighs me down now.
Is there a sign on me that says, “Dump Here”?
The door is shut. He is gone. But his presence is still heavy in the house. How do I get rid of the gloom that just got given to me. Let alone, there was no goodbye, how are you this morning, or I love you, or even a kiss goodbye. Just a slam of a door.
I am going to go steam myself and try to welcome positive thoughts to fill my day.
Then maybe I will write “No Dumping Here” on my forehead to make sure that everyone knows.
Thanks for listening.