Why?

I came home the other day to find the upstairs trash can on the kitchen table, and the kitchen trash can in it's correct location minus a trash bag. So, in all innocence I asked the question, (join in any time) "Why is the trash can on the table?"

She blushed looked me in the eye and said...
"You know the dumpster?"

I'm thinking to myself, hmmm... not seeing the connection yet.
"Yes, what about the dumpster?"

"Well, I dumped the trash and it fell in. So I had to fish it out."

Now, the dumpster is our trash bin and it's a good four foot tall. You can imagine the picture I'm getting right about now. "How did you fish it out?"

"I stood on the other bin and the recycle fell off, spilled all over the garage, and I fell into the dumpster. Then the lid fell on me."

Spock would be proud of me! Eyebrow raised, "Why did you stand on the dumpster? Why didn't you get help?"

"Well I didn't mean to knock the recycle over, it just(!) went everywhere, so I got all the paper picked up and the plastic and then I saw the cans under Dad's car, go figure. So I got them picked up and then I got the bucket and tried to reach the can in the dumpster but the bucket started cracking on me and tipped over and then the lid fell on me..."

Taking a slowwww... deeeppp breath.... "SO, why is the trash can on the table?"

"Cause after all that I was almost late getting to the bus and I still had to get the rest of the trash out. And the dumpster stinks."

With great restraint, I ask, "Would you please take the trash can off the table and put it away?"

"Sure!"

sigh. At least the ants are gone...