Recycling Day

Monday morning I decided to remove the three, empty, mini-bar bottles of 

Jagermeister, that have been rattling around in the door pocket of my van since last week.  They have been there since Nora discovered them outside the playground fence, at her school.   I'm pretty sure her exact words were, "Mom, someone littered bottles at my school!" Since she was very indignant about the whole matter, without even looking up (it was raining), I just told her to put them in the car and we'd add them to our recycling when we got home.  

Then, proud of her clean-up efforts, she brought them to me for inspection. At which point, she wanted to know what kind of bottles they were.  To which I simply replied, "they're alcohol bottles.  

"Oh like your wine?"

Um, no.  Not even close.  "No, honey.  This stuff is really bad.  Bad tasting and bad for you.  So you should never drink it."  I didn't add, it's the kind of alcohol that makes you  fall into the bushes, while attempting to walk home, after drinking some at a party.  (When you're young and dumb, that is--Or so I've heard)

"Oh, okay,"  she said, satisfied with both my answer and her good deed of the day.   Then, she tossed them on to the front seat of the van and buckled up.  As I was getting out of the car at Albertsons, though, that sparkly green glass caught my eye and I thought there is no way I am leaving those bottles on that seat, in plain sight, for everyone and their mother to see!  People I know shop here!  So I stashed them in the door pocket, where they were all but forgotten.   

Until yesterday, when I pulled into the driveway and saw the garbage cans, and recycling bins lining the street.  Quickly, I grabbed the bottles from their hiding spot, and headed toward my own glass recycling bin, where I planned to stuff them under our own collection of wine bottles deposit them.  And that's when she drove by: my neighbor.  And she waved, of course.  Because that's what good neighbors do.  And so, of course, I waved back.  Trying very hard not to look like a cheap drunk.    

Ahh...what's a girl to do: appear unfriendly by not waving at her neighbor, or have her think she's a closet alcoholic?   

Oh well, too late to worry about that now.  Like all good neighbors, over the years we have learned that  what happens on the curb, stays on the curb.  

Cheers!

S-