This morning, as I was clearing the counter off, I asked Rick while picking up random items, “Is this trash?”  (It’s super weird the things that AREN’T trash, so I’ve learned to ask.)  Anyway, today, he says, “I always write trash on items that are trash.  If it isn’t marked, it isn’t trash.”  Obviously, I don’t have to tell you that this idea would be absolutely ridiculous.  Choosing to write “trash” on something takes more time than throwing the trash in…the trash-but Rick is a man of his word.  I watched him from the living room as he finished the last of the milk, opened the drawer, pulled out a permanent marker, and wrote “TRASH” on the milk jug, setting it back on the counter.  All while complaining that it’s not easy that he has to write “trash” on all of his trash.  I guess the point of this little story is to let you know that my husband is weird.  Like…really weird.  He’s so weird that I am in awe of the creativity required to carry out this weirdness in a hilarious manner.   Continue reading →