5/100

I. Breakfast Sugar

I stepped out of my carpet slippers into the garage and pulled on my black rubber boots. It was Tuesday afternoon, so I had to take the garbage and recycling out to the curb. First the big dumpster, then the little blue recycling bin filled with cans and glass jars, then the sadly bare Christmas tree, then a couple of collapsed cardboard items. I poked my head into the kitchen and asked J if there was anything else that needed to go out. She handed me an empty box of Cinnamon Toast Crunch. I walked down the driveway looking over the nutritional content, shaking my head critically at the amount of sugar the boys had been spooning into themselves each morning that week. Then I set the box down in the blue recycling tote in between an empty cookie butter jar and an empty nutella jar, which had been the principal sweeteners in the ramekin baked oatmeal that J and I had been having all week. And I thought that maybe I wasn't the best person to judge the kids after all.

II. What's That Called?

During the warm weather break we wheeled our double jogger out of the garage, bundled the boys up, and went for two runs. The first one was to the bakery, and several of the employees recognized us and smiled as we squeezed the stroller in through the narrow doorway. We hadn't been as a family in weeks--probably since late November. An older lady ahead of us in line was looking through the cake display and asking about each item--the tiramisu, the carrot cake, the ladyfingers, the cream horns, the rum torte, the caramel latte cake.She was taking a while, but we weren't in any hurry. It was nice and dry in the bakery, the kids were already set with their complimentary sprinkle cookies, and we were catching our breath. Finally, the older lady was ready to order. She asked for two tiramozzi and a rump tart.

III. Where'd the Recycling Go?

We didn't sleep well Tuesday night. The wind was absolutely howling all night long, and no matter how many times I turned over in bed or pulled my hoodie over my head, I would be awoken again a few minutes later by a fresh blast of wind and icy rain beating against the house. My alarm went off at 5:30, and I went downstairs to brew some coffee. I was meeting a friend for breakfast, and I read for a few minutes under a blanket, trying to screw up the fortitude to put on a coat and shoes and head out into the wild weather. I looked outside. The recycling was gone. I looked up and down the sidewalk, but there wasn't any sign of it. No bin, no cardboard, no cans or glass jars. It was still almost completely dark, so I decided to drive off to breakfast and go hunting upon my return. When I got back at 8:30, I walked up the sidewalk towards the school and saw an empty nutella jar resting against the tree. A little further up the parking lot was an empty orange juice carton. Finally, blown all the way past the neighbor's, across Helendale Road, through the school parking lot, and into the school playground, was our recycling tote. I tossed as much as I could find of its original contents inside, and then started walking back to our house. And then I spotted, blown up against the playground fence, our Christmas tree. I had to make a second trip for that.

IV. Fire Truck

We'll remember this evening as the day that we thought we had a gas leak and called RG&E about it. J was preheating the oven and the whole downstairs began to reek of a gassy, keroseney smell. We turned the oven off and called the safety number, just to see what they'd recommend. They told us to leave the house immediately and that they would have someone there right away. James and Owen will remember today as the day that a fire truck came to OUR HOUSE, and that even though there was a real fire truck parked in our driveway and real firemen walking in our house Mommy put them in the car and drove them away and they missed all the fun.
The verdict, by the way, was that there was nothing wrong with our gas lines or our stove, but that the odor was a combination of the oven preheating fumes from the staining and painting I'd done in the basement earlier that day. Also, we discovered how dirty it is (was) behind our stove. I'm just glad that everyone's okay. But I think Owen had really set his heart on taking a ride in the fire truck.