I have the perfect match for me.
My husband has a strange obsession with “winning” the trash competition in our neighborhood. He gets a thrill from having huge amounts of trash to put out. The more there is, the happier he is.
And I, as a slob, am only too willing (and able) to oblige.
He was feeling particularly triumphant on this day, so I took a picture. It’s from my front window, since I’m not quite ready to make the necessary explanations that would be required if I were to stand in my front yard and photograph our garbage.
Our across-the-street neighbors were running a close second, but they have trash cans, which add height to their arrangement.
Ours . . . is aaaaaallllllllll trash, baby.
I’m linking this up to Finer Things Friday over at The Finer Things in Life, because I’m so incredibly thankful for my perfectly-matched-to-me husband.