What to do to Joey...

If you didn't read the previous post, read this first.

OH MY WORD, Joey is in trouble.

I went outside to dig through the trash to find the deodorant. It took an inordinately long time to get the trash bag untied, but once I did I was met by a stench of colossal proportions. (It was a combination of kitchen and bathroom trash...use your imagination, it'll be close.)

At first I gingerly picked through it, but there was this huge half a pineapple that went rotten before we could eat it, and it was sliming everything up. So I gave up and started pulling trash out and covering the ground with it.

Halfway through the bag, I felt as though I had correctly ascertained that Joey's deodorant was not in there.

"Hey!" I yelled, loud enough that Joey would be able to hear me inside (much to the delight of the neighbors, I'm sure), "Are you sure your deodorant was in the trash?"

The door opened just enough for me to see Joey's face. It said, "Well, I'll go check again."

I heard sufficient rummagings inside the house and a moment later he returned. Looking sheepish.

"Um...It was on the counter. Behind the plant." He said, still hiding behind the door.

"Oh. My. Word." I said, sitting on the doorstep completely surrounded in rotten pineapple juice covered trash. "You are in trouble."

Joey stifled a laugh. "I'm really trying to feel sorry about this...but it's just so funny..." He quickly shut the door, locked it, and started to laugh in earnest.

So there I was. Surrounded by disgusting trash (that I didn't need to dig through in the first place) and locked out of my own house.

"You should be putting this trash back in the bag!" I hollered through the door. It was met with the sound of the door unlocking, but no charming husband coming out to save the day and put the trash away.

"You're going to pay for this..." I muttered, gingerly picking up the garbage.

I tied off the bag and marched back into the house. Joey was hiding behind the Oriental screen but, since he's wearing a red shirt and was standing right in front of one of the cracks, I could totally see him. "You owe me one." I said, looking right at him.

"Hey, how'd you find me!" He wailed.

I didn't answer but went straight to the bathroom where I washed my hands. With very hot water.

"Ice cream?" Joey said, coming into the bathroom. He was still trying not to laugh.

So here I sit, typing and trying to eat this humongous bowl of ice cream that Joey gave me, thinking it would atone for his sins. I'm really not sure it did, but it tastes good.