Ode to the Trash Can

Well, the time has come.

We never officially named you.

Maybe that's why saying goodbye seems so easy.

You've been a daily helper in our home for the last 5 years.

Any time we had something to dispose of, you were right there.

We had some good times together.

Remember when we moved from Colorado?

Look, there you are.

When we moved into our apartment, you found your spot.

And when we bought a house, you were front and center.

You provided lots of entertainment.

You liked to fake people out.

You looked like a step-operated trash can, but you had everyone fooled.

They would try to step on your pedal and nothing would happen.

You went so far as to make people lift your lid manually to throw things away.

And your aroma.

I will never forget the days we'd spend in the front yard, spraying you out with a hose and leaving you in the sun to dry because you were so potent.

Your latest trick?

You slammed your lid down so fast, it pushed any foul air within you out in one giant burst.

Anyone trying to eat at the table got to experience the blast.

Good times.

Alas, my friend, it's time for you to go.

I'd say parting is such sweet sorrow or something poetic, but, let's be honest.

Your replacement has been on our Amazon wish list for over a year now.

Why no one wanted to buy us a trash can for Christmas, I'll never know.

But after we made some extra cash in a garage sale last weekend, your final days were numbered.

You had to see it coming.

I'm sure you'll feel right at home where you're headed.

Thanks for teaching us so much about what we wanted in a trash can by showing us what we didn't want.

You've forever changed the way we shop for garbage receptacles.

And for that, we owe you a debt of something rotting and repulsive.