When I was a kid, Mom would take Christy, Andrea and me to the weekly summer matinee movie. One particular day, we’d all had popcorn and Mom said, a bit too loudly, “I’m the garbage lady.”
Suddenly, not only was she holding all of us girls’ garbage, but random people at the theater starting handing her their garbage. Hand over hand it came from rows away, with Mom struggling to juggle all the empty popcorn buckets and soda cups that she was handed. Somehow we were able to push our way forward to the garbage cans where Mom unloaded her significant burden.
When we got to the car, Mom had the giggles. We hooted and snorted with laughter all the way home. But never again did Mom announce that she was a garbage lady.