Overdrawn at the dumpster bank

Ok, there may not be moving fairies or packing elves, but I swear, somewhere out there, exists Trash Trolls. And they've been using my storage unit and closets to store their squirrelled away booty. That is the only explanation I can think of to explain the unbelievable amount of stuff that was lurking in our outside storage unit. The one just on the side of our porch, where carefully put up shelves had been set up when we moved in nearly 3 years ago. And I knew it wasn't in the best of shape, there are three of us using it, my material, patterns and hoops, the Big Guy's various odds and ends-power tools, computer stuff, an assortment of rather heavy something precariously balanced on the top shelf. That I was expecting, because I do periodically go in there, looking for a particular pattern or to refill the cat litter storage bin, but damn, I had no idea that something was using it to store items apparently stealthed away from the four corners of the known world by evil under bridge dwelling trolls. And while I did keep my eye out for a missing pooper scooper, hose nozzle, street sign and a couple of packs of gum that some of my friends have discovered missing, I spent most of the weekend bagging up trash. Items formerly known as functional objects, weird bits of things (sorry, no hubcap), the collection of empty cat litter bags that Robb had apparently decided could be held for recycling and a host of other unidentifiable objects made their appearence, squealed for help momentarily and then gave in to being shoved into big black garbage bags and sent on their way to the dumpster via my steady happy helper. Although somewhere along the line, he went on strike, declaring on his fifth trip back up from the dumpster that I was done now. There he stood, in my livingroom, wearing that adorably loud tropical print shirt he loves so much, with the bolo tie his grandfather gave him for Christmas several years ago and his favorite chinos and told me, only five bags, Momma. You used six. Apparently, unbeknownst to me, I have a five bag a day limit and I exceeded it. I am, therefore, overdrawn at the dumpster bank.

Wonder what he'll say when we really start packing