When I was growing up (from the age of 10 when we moved into the apartment), after dinner My Mother The Dowager Duchess would clean up the kitchen and then call out, “Mitchell, garbage!” And I had to take the small bag of trash into the hallway and drop it down the incinerator chute.
Once I went away to school, garbage became The Kid Brother’s responsibility. (At long last, The Duchess was willing to give him some responsibility.) Every night, she called out “Chucky, garbage!” and he proudly did his duty. On my first holiday visit home, we finished dinner and The Duchess called, “Chucky, garbage!” to which he replied pointing at me, “Hey, that’s HIS name!”
For the two weeks of my recovery from eye surgery (it’s perfect now!!!), I wasn’t supposed to do any lifting. San Geraldo very carefully monitored my activities. He even took out the garbage and recycling.
Twice.
And that is why I call him San Geraldo and not Jerry Garbage.
Cuando crecía (desde la edad de 10 años cuando nos mudamos al apartamento), después de la cena, Mi Madre La Duquesa Viuda, limpiaba la cocina y luego gritaba: “¡Mitchell, basura!”. Y tuve que llevar la pequeña bolsa de basura al pasillo y dejarla caer por el conducto del incinerador.
Cuando me fui a la universidad, la basura se convirtió en la responsabilidad de El Hermanito. (Por fin, La Duquesa estaba dispuesta a darle algo de responsabilidad). Cada noche, ella gritaba “¡Chucky, basura!” e hizo con orgullo su deber. En mi primera visita de vacaciones a casa, terminamos de cenar y la duquesa gritó: “¡Chucky, basura!” a lo que él respondió, señalando a mí, “¡Oye, ese es SU nombre!”
Durante las dos semanas de mi recuperación de la cirugía ocular (¡¡¡es perfecto ahora!!!), no debía hacer ningún levantamiento. BSan Geraldo vigilaba muy cuidadosamente mis actividades. Incluso sacó la basura y el reciclaje.
Dos veces.
Y es por eso que lo llamo San Geraldo y no Jerry Basura.
I had garbage duty, a bit more complicated on the farm.
David:
Before we moved from the suburbs, my sister hauled the trash cans down to the curb. I guess I was considered too young. (She was a lot stronger anyway!)
Ha! Love that story. And the kitties. or kitty.
Judy:
It’s fun to get an insight at times into how Chuck thinks. Quite often not what you’d expect… of course. As for Jerry. Gotta love him.
Now that you’re all healed up, I guess those will be your jobs again?
Dudo says you’d never dare call him garbage!
Glad your eye is better, so, yeah …. garbage!
Bob:
I’m on it. Most days, Jerry didn’t even notice that I had hauled stuff down. I was careful to only take the lightweight recycling, though.
YAYZ for your eye! I love your pussies!
anne marie:
I love these boys, too. And, yes, YAYZ!!!
But are you still Mitchell Garbage? The garbage seems to be my responsibility, too, 90% of the time.
Wilma:
Although I’m the one who takes out the garbage, I’m no longer Mitchell Garbage since Jerry would never bother saying it. As far he’s concerned the trash could sit forEVER.
Mitchell, you should’ve faked blindness for another month. Think of all that garbage you wouldn’t have to move.
Robyn:
I still had to haul it; I just had to haul it behind Jerry’s back. This is much easier.
I am reminded of Lily Tomlin’s character, Agnus Angst. When told to take out the trash, she looked around her and said, “Take out the trash? I would not know where to begin.”
Walt the Fourth:
So profound. I guess we should call Jerry “Angus.”
a good story, this !
Spo,
Thanks. I do appreciate that!