Garbage Problems

The Baby has gotten really good at cleaning up after himself. Too good, in fact.

Phase I: Post-Dinner Cleanup

After dinner, I consistently have to remind Thing 1 and Thing 2 to scrape any remnants of dinner off their plates and into the trash (for Thing 1, almost everything she was dished up; for Thing 2, almost nothing). The Baby, tiny imitator that he is, does this routine without being asked. I am winning at life!

Then one day, when I go to scrape the Husband's plate into the trash, I see a plate and fork in there. The Baby apparently decided that after scraping, the whole place setting just went in there. This has happened more than once. I now know to check the trash after dinner for plates and utensils.

Phase II: Disposable Cup Quandary

We frequently bring home those kiddie cups you get at restaurants - the plastic ones covered in pictures of kids or dinosaurs or, in the case of Olive Garden, random food-people like Olive the... Olive - because Thing 1 and Thing 2 like them, and because they have lids with straw holes, which is nice when you're outside or traveling.

Recently, I've gotten iced coffee, which the Baby thinks is the greatest thing ever. So to appease him and not stunt his growth and not get him hopped up on caffeine, I have been giving him one of the straw cups with juice in it (don't judge - I could let him drink the coffee - and no one wants to deal with a tantrum before they've finished their coffee).

The problem is, he recognizes somehow that these cups are supposed to be tossed after one use. He takes two or three sips, gets bored, and throws the entire cup of juice into the trash. Which I then have to fish out, wash off, and put in the fridge for later. And repeat.

Phase III: Paper

The Baby hasn't gotten the hang of recycling versus trash yet - to be fair, neither has the Husband. And I have faith the Baby will get it before the Husband does. Regardless, to the Baby, paper can go in the trash. Any papers. All papers. But still, imagine my surprise when I open the trash the other day and find... six dollars in bills. That hellion went in my purse in search of gum (which is a whole other post), took out the money, and threw it in the garbage.

I'd like to think this was a one-time episode, but no. Tonight, I once again open up the trash to throw something in and... dollar bills. My hard-earned paper-route money, sitting atop the remnants of our visit to McDonald's.

So now I'm stuck routinely checking the trash multiple times a day for useful items that the Baby has decided are no longer useful to him. I guess at least I don't have to worry he'll grow up to be a hoarder.