One would not expect the replacement of a kitchen garbage can to be a difficult task – but – we’re four years into the process and we’re still not happy.
It all started when we moved, and my
wife declared that a new house required a new can, so we ditched our old
reliable one* and bought a similar, but, we soon learned, slightly inferior,
replacement. First of all, it was rectangular, instead of oval, so the bags
were a tighter fit. And it had a “sticky” latch that didn’t always catch. But, other than that, the new can served
us fairly well for several years. Until my wife decided that it was too dirty
on the inside and we needed another one.
I tried
explaining that it was a garbage can, and getting dirty was sort of the
point. Not to mention I’m the ONLY
one to see the inside of it, as the last time she took the garbage out will be the
first time. But, apparently it’s not my kitchen. Plus, knowing my wife, she was
probably worried that at our next party, some helpful guest might offer to take
the garbage out and be aghast at the unsightly stained interior. Personally, I
can’t think of any of our friends and relatives who would be upset or offended
by the sight of garbage in our garbage can – but, if you’re out there, I should
probably inform you that we also have water in our pool and salt on our
pretzels. Oh, and chances are good
that there’s dust in our Dustbuster.
But the chances were equally bad that
I would win this argument, so I bought a new one.
This one lasted two months. And it
SUCKED. Literally! It was 13.2 gallons, but all kitchen bags are 13 gallons, so
the bags dangled in the can and would collapse into it once the weight of the
trash exceeded one pound. Plus, the
fit was too tight and bags tore when we tried to stretch them around the rim. But
the worst part was, once I finally managed to install a bag, it always left an
air pocket that had to be released after throwing something out, otherwise the
bag would balloon in at the top and appear full.
It’s hard admitting the hatred I
felt toward such an innocuous and inanimate object, but next to the cat, that
garbage can was the most despised thing in the house. Thankfully, the press to
open latch soon snapped off and left the can permanently open, displaying all of
our garbage to any passing guest - which, truth be told, seemed to me like
poetic justice for ditching the too dirty one. My wife felt otherwise.
In fact, she blamed me for bringing it home, and insisted
that this time, she’d pick one out. I watched as she
wandered through the aisles like Goldilocks. This one was too big. That one,
too small. One was just right,
except for the color. Another
would have been fine, if not for step-on feature, which for some unspecified
reason, she does not like.
She settled on one with a
swing-top, and after two weeks of using it, I have to say…I hate it even more
than the last one! It has ALL of the bad points described above, with the added
bonus of not staying open, so when I go to peel a cucumber (a daily occurrence
for my son’s lunch) or scrape a dish, I have to stick my arm (and most of the cucumber) IN to the
garbage. Call me crazy, but I
think that’s a lot grosser than a few stains hiding under the bag.
But what do I know? It’s not my
kitchen!
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| There he is, middle left corner. Had I known how much I'd miss him, I would have taken a better picture. |
* They say you never forget your first, and in this case,
it’s true. It was white, plastic, and about waist high. Kitchen-size garbage
cans fit snug and perfect. It had a press to open lid that popped up reliably
at the touch of a finger, and snapped shut with a gentle push. I cost all of
$18 and served us well for many years.
