Garbage Pickin'

Josh lost his set of keys.

He woke up Monday morning and had to use his spare, after quickly searching before work.

Last time he had them was when he took Krista home after vacation. When he came in the door that night, he was talking on his cell phone and came to say goodnight to me as I lay in a twilight sleep on the couch.

Fast forward to Monday evening:

"Mom, I can't find my keys anywhere! Can you help me look?" he asks.

So I begin my search. We are looking in places that didn't even make sense that they keys would even end up in: cupboards, drawers, under places in rooms that Josh wasn't even in...

"Did you check the garbage that Matt took out just a little while ago?" I ask.

We go out to the trash can and pull the heavy garbage bag out. We give it a shake. We give it lots of shakes. We are hoping to hear the familiar rattle of keys. Nothing.

So we are back to square one. Start searching again. By this time Josh is getting very frustrated. Not angry frustrated. Bewildered frustrated.

After a few minues, I decide that we should actually go through the garbage bag. Open it. Pull stuff out. Move stuff around. Dig. Josh is repulsed by the idea. This is a kid that can't reheat leftovers because the refrigerated smell of already cooked food disgusts him.

I grab my cleaning gloves. Mom to the rescue. He smiles with relief, "Thanks Mom".

*hands shown are not my own*

We go Trash Diggin'. Garbage Pickin'.

Empty boxes of food. Lots of coffee grounds. Bits of food scraped from plates. Barbeque sauce. Newspapers. You get the idea.

All the while Josh is standing, holding a new garbage bag that I am filling with those wonderful used goods. Lucky for him, the garbage hadn't been heating in the sun for a few days... We all know what kind of smell that produces.

I find an empty water bottle. We think we are close. Josh now remembers throwing away a water bottle when he came home Sunday night.

A little more rifling through and......Well-ah! His set of keys, that now included his new "Mile Marker 0" key chain that he got in Key Largo, covered in coffee grounds.

He was estatic. Overjoyed. He hugged me. He thanked me. He KISSED the top of my head. SEVERAL times!

THAT is what I have to do to get a kiss from my son?

I think I'll "lose" some more of his stuff in the garbage when I'm feeling a need to get a kiss from my son.

Garbage Pickin' = X-tra Love.

Ain't that sweet.