Even when I’m right, I’m wrong.
Yis probably remember a few weeks back I told yis I re-caulked the kitchen counter 
and Minnie made me take the cupboards off the wall and move them up about six inches so she could fit the microwave on the counter. She took the old microwave cart I wanted into the living room and filled it with old catalogs and put a brand new, great big garbage bucket where the microwave cart was.
But the thing is, I could see right away it wasn’t gonna work keepin’ that big garbage bucket by the back door. It was wider than the old microwave cart, so every time you’d open or close the door, you’d hit the side of the can. And you couldn’t get in or out unless the door was open all the way.
Of course, I made the mistake of pointin’ this out to Minnie. Don’tchya think we should move the garbage can out of the doorway? I said to her after the umpteenth time I banged into it.
No, she said. I like it there. You just need to watch where you’re goin’ until you get used to it.
Now, if you’ve been married for any length of time, you know there’s sometimes these stupid little things you both get stubborn about. Maybe it’s because she’s sick of your snorin’, or you’re sick of how loud she is on the phone when you’re tryin’ to watch a ball game – but somethin’ gets on your nerves and you take out that frustration by makin’ a big deal over somethin’ stupid, like where the garbage can is.
So for the next week, any time I went in or out of the door, I made a point to bang into the garbage can. There’d be a big crash and I’d yell, Holy cripes! I banged into that gabrage can again!
Minnie didn’t bite for the longest time. I’d crash into it loud enough to wake the neigbours and knock the salt and pepper off the top of the stove and she’d just sit there, sippin’ her tea and doin’ her crossword puzzle.
Then one day I came in the door, banged into the garbage can with my usual big crash, and before I could open my mouth to complain about it, Minnie says, I swear to God, if you crash into that garbage can again, the next time you leave you’ll be goin’ out through the window.
And the look on her face when she said it – holy cripes that woman can look tough. Needless to say, I cut it out pretty quick.
The next day, she came home from the grocery store. She came in the back door carryin’ groceries in both hands and – guess what? – she tripped over the garbage can.
Crash! Bang! Boom! I came runnin’ in from watchin’ TV and there was Minnie down on the floor holdin’ her ankle, with cans of soup and Zoodles rollin’ in all directions, Sobeys bags flutterin’ through the air like snowflakes.
What happened?! I said, bendin’ over to help her. Are you OK?
I’m OK, she said. I just bent my ankle. I tripped over the (bunch of bad words) garbage can.
Now, you might think I’m a monster for what happened next (Minnie certainly made it clear she did). But when she said she tripped over the garbage can, I looked up at the can, looked back at her and – God help me – a smirk flashed across my face for one split second before I could get it under control.
It’s not like I burst out laughin’ and pointed at her – it was just for that one second I found it kind of funny that after all the times I banged into it on purpose to show it was in the way, Minnie actually tripped over it.
In my defence, by the time I smirked I already asked if she was OK and she said yes. I was really worried when I heard the noise and then seen her on the floor like that – my heart was in my throat for a second, to tell ya the truth. But when I realized what happened – I mean, c’mon, that’s funny.
You’re laughin’ at me! she yelled.
I’m not! I yelled, but it was too late. She seen the look on my face and that set her right off. She called me a few names at the top of her lungs, and then I got nothin’ but the silent treatment.
I helped pick up all the groceries and as I was puttin’ them away, I seen out of the corner of my eye, Minnie dragged the garbage bucket over by the living room doorway, where the cat food dishes are, and then took the cat food dishes over and put them where the garbage bucket was by the door.
I didn’t say anything. She didn’t say anything.
I saw when I was puttin’ the groceries away she got some spaghetti and a can of meat sauce for supper, so I told her why don’t you go in and rest your ankle and I’ll make supper for a change.
She shot me a dirty look, but she went in and sat down without sayin’ anything.
While the spaghetti was boilin’ I figured I’d get some bread out and put it on the table. But when I went to the cupboard I found there was half a bun of moldy bread next to the new stuff I just put away.
I whipped out the old bread, turned around fast and fired a jump shot at the garbage can. Only the garbage can wasn’t there anymore. It hit cats’ two metal bowls and sent no-name tender vittles and water all over the place while the bowls seemed to crash around forever.
Minnie yells out, The garbage bucket’s moved, genius.
John McNeil 