Rubbish

Am I becoming a domesticated housewife? Or do others among you have the same affinity that I do with my bin?

You know the one, your wheelie bin. I used to live in a rough area, where the families were huge, thus it was in their best interest to STEAL YOUR BIN, so that the crap their sprogs produced wasn't just chucked into the alleyway, but into a bin. I didn't have uni on a Friday (bin day) at the time, and used to wake up to the sound of the reversing siren from the tuck, in a cold sweat, throw on the nearest jeans and jumper, run down the street into the alley to collect my bin. Well, not necessarily mine, you understand, just "a" bin to get me through the 2 weeks. You now think I am an evil bin stealer. Well...

When we moved in, we did not have any recycling boxes, but the kind bin men always took away my carefully washed and sorted-into-carrier bags recycling. But... no one is so lucky when it comes to those damn wheelies; bloody save-the-planet council (I am avidly Eco-friendly BTW).

You think I am sad waiting in the alley for a bin.....I am late, at least ten women and a sprinkling of men also wait for a bin. We have had to deal with binlessness before, the council will only give you one free replacement, then you've gotta be quids in to buy yourself a new bin every bloody week.

So...when I spy a bin that no-one has laid claim to, I drag it into my garage an proceed to paint my door number and street name in large, white letters on each panel. No one would dare now, right?

I have heard stories that beg to differ, an extremist in comparison to me, outrageously painting yellow abstract art onto his bin, only to have it (gasp) stolen! But never fear, on returning from a night out, approx a mile from home, said man spots his beloved bin in the distance, and, irate with anger, trudges off to retrieve it, and drag it off into the night. Luckily the "new owner" of the bin was not home. Or at least pretended not to be.

Grown.