Now why would you go and do a thing like that? I tell ya, cleaning this and cleaning that is a bit nerve racking at best, and absolute insanctum insanum at worst. I was probably a Latin queen of Sheba in a prior life. What an abhorring job, cleaning out the ole dross receptacle. Oh what logic that is, first one must load said receptacle with said waste, secondly one must remove said waste from said receptacle, thirdly one must cleanse all microbiological impurities from said receptacle and fourthly one must refill said receptacle with said waste. Now I don’t know about you but I think Euclid is glad that the logic problems in his day were easy. Ergo we must surmise that this gross job is probably not considered by most homo-sapiens (especially the macho category) let alone properly denoted on their weekly cleaning checklists and schedules. This being said I am going to venture a postulation that when interrogating ones garbage cans one must sprinkle with antibacterial chemicals at least and inflict fire hose like pressure if needed. Do this twice a year. It will keep the flies, maggots and dogs down, I promise. Here is a story and some suggestions that I recommend you can do without calling in the Armed Forces.
Now I think I better interject this little tid bit of info as an FYI. I usually do not take the trash out. You know that the less fair sex needs something to do and I am raising two strapping young lads. I don’t think their hands were meant to gain all their calluses from an Xbox paddle not to mention there is brain rot and rebellion that must be considered. What do you think? Am I totally off my rocker? Besides I don’t think I have to tell you that I do everything else. So its “BOYS GET THAT MONKEY WASTE GARBAGE OUT OF HERE RIGHT NOW!”. I am such a lovely mother aren’t I? hehehe.
So the other day I found myself home alone enjoying a little me time, aka peace and quiet. As I was fingering my lovely piping hot java mug I notice a little WWE going on in my nostrils. In the blue corner there was my lovely wisps of Vanilla Nut Pumpkin Pie Java and in the red corner there was this ugly secretion of a maggots arm pit. There was a tendril like jet trail acting as a ten lane freeway connecting to the red corner to the pantry. I knew right off the bat it was that beaver dam garbage. My sweetest of sweets left the lovely over flowing waste receptacle untouched before frolicking off to school. Of course my super mom panties were on in an instant and I was ready to do battle.
I set a course for the pantry to eliminate the tartness that was stealing oxygen from my kitchen. Swooping in with ninja like skills I grasped the hefty kitchen bag full of waste by the neck and did a little hum rendition of the funeral march. I dialed in coordinates and shot off to the land of the giant blue waste contaminate holders next to the shed. Thanks to the stealth upgrades in my super mom panties I was not intercepted by the insect air-force comprised of F-42 Hornets and P28 Flytnings. I approached the blue barrels tentatively, and at DEF-CON 3 the hair inside my nose stood up like little fairies dancing around Peter Pan. I notice a fly that was circling the barrels like a vulture that had found a decaying heap of gourmet sludge. I opened the lid and nausea swept over me taking me back to my first conception. To no one in particular the well oiled hinges of my mouth went to work as I bellered “What in the hill is that gosh darn awful smell?”, using a more correct command of my four letter vocabulary of course. Crawling around in the heaps of rot and fermentation were Satan’s spawn, maggots. A quick near debilitating look revealed that the white trash bags deposited had been haphazardly tossed into the blue cans and left untied, allowing the first wave of zombie creatures to mutate and plan a world domination. They had a good week of unhindered planning while building up their army. I attacked with a few well placed expletives. I knew I had to tackle this mess and went to work. I decided this would require my purple rubbermaids, scrubbing brush, garden hose and chemical warfare. Properly suited I plunged into the depths of hell and began gathering up the loose trash into giant black hefty garbage bags. I wheeled the blue trash barrels over to the nearest hydrant, dumped a half gallon of ammonia in each one and filled them with water. I let them soak giving the ammonia room to work as I returned to the deck to sip on some strong ice tea. A couple drinks later I returned and dumped the sick smelly water into the gravel, laid the barrels on their sides, put the nozzle from the higher regions on the end of the hose and sprayed as a man hath no fury. I then retrieved my Tea Tree Oil and dropped several drops into each trash can, and let it sit awhile as I fled to the deck for another round of ice tea.
Later that afternoon, feeling pretty happy, I dumped out the rest of the water and let the barrels sit in the sun to dry out. They were as good as new. When the family returned home I did have a few things to say. I am pretty sure I got the message across because I haven’t seen anything creepy crawly finding its way out of the trash cans to take over the planet.
You can use any cleaner to complete this awful task, such as 409 or Pine-Sol. I just happen to have ammonia handy so that’s what I used. Anything like I mentioned should work as long as it has a good strong smell, and I highly recommend the Tea Tree Oil as a final disinfectant. Remember to return to the deck for a final sipping of the brown fluid in your glass as a celebration for tackling such a gross job, believing and relieved it won’t come around again for a long time, (hopefully).
