The Most Boring Story in the World

The lid on the kitchen rubbish bin broke off, necessitating an evening trip to the store to purchase a new bin. But when we got there, they didn’t have a white bin. They only had our bin in grey. These are the kinds of things that immobilize us. We walked around our garbage collection options — there were like six choices — for a half hour, looping back always to whether we could become grey rubbish bin people. (Spoiler alert: the answer is no.)

Our white bin was sold out online, too, but we ordered one for delivery later in October. And then we went home where I looked at the bin for about two minutes, fixed it, and we canceled the order.

When we talk to the twins at night, they tell us funny stories about people on campus, or weird things that happened in class, or things they learned in a lesson. They have so many stories to tell us.

And all I had to contribute to the conversation was our rubbish bin saga. I watched the Wolvog’s eyes glaze over, and he told me never to tell anyone else this story. So I promptly told his sister, who wondered why we were so obsessed with discussing the kitchen bin.

What she doesn’t know is that I saved her from the story about how Josh guessed that we needed more toilet paper upstairs and brought up some rolls, and he walked into the bathroom right as I was calling out to him, “We need more…” Just kidding. I’ve saved that story for this upcoming week to spread out all of my news.