Engarde! Monsieur Maggot! We meet again... and this time there is no mercy my friend. Yes, sadly (AGAIN) I am dealing with maggots within my lifetime. Once more than I would have liked to of course. The problem lies within a party host, who is not very good with details, and forgot to line the trash bins with liners. "So what?", you say? Sure... probably not a big deal if you are disposing of plastic, or random beer cups. Unfortunately, our waste was the result of a Hawaiian pig roast, and the remnants of said swine and a plethora of accouterments into the garbage can (all unlined). Corn, beans, pork, seasoned ribs, potato salad, salad, etc.
As soon as I was approached during the party, by a few guests, what were they to do with said garbage items, I looked to the host(s). One, who was more than a rock star, suggested one of the items on the co-host's list was the garbage and he had nothing to do with it - fair enough. It just happens to be that the co-host responsible for garbage is also family to me... and I know what their follow through is on minutia, and especially garbage detail. *Sigh*. After multiple neighbors convince me otherwise (what were THEY thinking???), I decided to reject the idea of immediately taking the pig and resulting garbage out of the bins in my full Hawaiian dress at 11:30 at night. This, I fear, was a huge mistake. Not the drinking too late into the evening, nor the tomfoolery (or cacophonous noise I was making or other things not worth mentioning), just the garbage was the most evident mistake.
I warned, nudged, pleaded, nagged "please, please, please take the garbage out and put it into separate bags, don't leave it un-bagged in the bin!"... nothing budged said partner to change the scenario outside - even after several days post party. His reasoning? "It takes a week before maggots show up. It will be fine." My response?, "Fine. When the maggots show up - you're dealing with it, not me." He agreed. Finally, two days after, he moved AT LEAST the swine into a bag. But, alas, nothing else... so basically it did nothing for the result I was looking for (no maggots). I come out three days post party (fully knowing what to expect) and of course, as predicted - full on maggot infestation. Laid bins out for trash pick up, felt like an a**hole towards the Garbage men, and waited. Please GOD, take these bins.
So, back to today... I come out to see if the bleach I poured onto the bins last night worked in terms of the infestation reducing. Nope. There is this little pile of maggot worms laying at the base of each bin. OMG, I want to projectile vomit out my eyes. At LEAST 100 lying there, and more squirming out the sides. This is like a Wes Craven Horror movie. BARF. I am PRAYING that the men take these bins. Especially since I had gone out last night in a fit of despair, and doused the bins with bleach - no dice. The little worms of horror are invincible. It's unbelievable. Eight O'clock comes around... They took it - phew. I had been watching feverishly through the window the whole time the men took the bins. Images of holding back barf were flowing through my mind. I couldn't BARE the thought of what it would be like taking care of this myself if they refused it, carrying those bins in the back of my perfect Tahoe. Then the HORRID realization comes to me. Husband: Just. Can't. Deal. With. The. Aftermath. Of. Cleanup. F*&$. OK, I get that he has a shiza load of responsibility on him right now, so do I, but what happened to the "man's work"? I'm now doing both the man's work and the woman's work?!?!?!? GRRRRR...
That's it. It's four days post party, and I've had it with patience. Someone needs to do this, and I guess it's going to be me. I pull out every frigging bin and container I have of Vinegar and environmentally biodegradable bleach (this type of bleach breaks down to salt water - like the kind you use to clean your deck), and I SOAK the suckers. I have full on plastic gloves and am spraying the wet, maggot infested garbage down, and just dousing the disgusting awfulness that this is. Then I have to pick up the wet maggot garbage and reload it into new garbage bags. VOMIT fest. For a sensory sensitive person like me - especially olfactory like mine - this is the worst job you could possible hold in the world. Never-the-less, it has to be done, by someone, and STAT. Neighbors are walking by, moms are instructing their kids not to breathe, people are walking to the other side of the street - its bad. But after one solid hour of this hell - we're back BABY! Clean bins, smelling like Lysol bleach and vinegar fresh, at least for the time being. I think I may have to re-bleach the bins... and there were a few extra "worms" hanging around I didn't catch from my relentless hour long power spray from the hose throughout the colonoscopy of the garbage bins I performed... but WTF? I sprayed until the potential thunderstorm lightening bolts above my house were right above my garage. I did my part, and THEN SOME. Hubby asks if I took care of it when I walked in... Is it wrong to want to slap him in the face? :-/
No words, my friends, no words, just a nice strong martini and maggot free garbage cans at the side of my house. Also, VERY happy crows (and neighbors)... side note: I kind of like crows more now?
As soon as I was approached during the party, by a few guests, what were they to do with said garbage items, I looked to the host(s). One, who was more than a rock star, suggested one of the items on the co-host's list was the garbage and he had nothing to do with it - fair enough. It just happens to be that the co-host responsible for garbage is also family to me... and I know what their follow through is on minutia, and especially garbage detail. *Sigh*. After multiple neighbors convince me otherwise (what were THEY thinking???), I decided to reject the idea of immediately taking the pig and resulting garbage out of the bins in my full Hawaiian dress at 11:30 at night. This, I fear, was a huge mistake. Not the drinking too late into the evening, nor the tomfoolery (or cacophonous noise I was making or other things not worth mentioning), just the garbage was the most evident mistake.
I warned, nudged, pleaded, nagged "please, please, please take the garbage out and put it into separate bags, don't leave it un-bagged in the bin!"... nothing budged said partner to change the scenario outside - even after several days post party. His reasoning? "It takes a week before maggots show up. It will be fine." My response?, "Fine. When the maggots show up - you're dealing with it, not me." He agreed. Finally, two days after, he moved AT LEAST the swine into a bag. But, alas, nothing else... so basically it did nothing for the result I was looking for (no maggots). I come out three days post party (fully knowing what to expect) and of course, as predicted - full on maggot infestation. Laid bins out for trash pick up, felt like an a**hole towards the Garbage men, and waited. Please GOD, take these bins.
So, back to today... I come out to see if the bleach I poured onto the bins last night worked in terms of the infestation reducing. Nope. There is this little pile of maggot worms laying at the base of each bin. OMG, I want to projectile vomit out my eyes. At LEAST 100 lying there, and more squirming out the sides. This is like a Wes Craven Horror movie. BARF. I am PRAYING that the men take these bins. Especially since I had gone out last night in a fit of despair, and doused the bins with bleach - no dice. The little worms of horror are invincible. It's unbelievable. Eight O'clock comes around... They took it - phew. I had been watching feverishly through the window the whole time the men took the bins. Images of holding back barf were flowing through my mind. I couldn't BARE the thought of what it would be like taking care of this myself if they refused it, carrying those bins in the back of my perfect Tahoe. Then the HORRID realization comes to me. Husband: Just. Can't. Deal. With. The. Aftermath. Of. Cleanup. F*&$. OK, I get that he has a shiza load of responsibility on him right now, so do I, but what happened to the "man's work"? I'm now doing both the man's work and the woman's work?!?!?!? GRRRRR...
That's it. It's four days post party, and I've had it with patience. Someone needs to do this, and I guess it's going to be me. I pull out every frigging bin and container I have of Vinegar and environmentally biodegradable bleach (this type of bleach breaks down to salt water - like the kind you use to clean your deck), and I SOAK the suckers. I have full on plastic gloves and am spraying the wet, maggot infested garbage down, and just dousing the disgusting awfulness that this is. Then I have to pick up the wet maggot garbage and reload it into new garbage bags. VOMIT fest. For a sensory sensitive person like me - especially olfactory like mine - this is the worst job you could possible hold in the world. Never-the-less, it has to be done, by someone, and STAT. Neighbors are walking by, moms are instructing their kids not to breathe, people are walking to the other side of the street - its bad. But after one solid hour of this hell - we're back BABY! Clean bins, smelling like Lysol bleach and vinegar fresh, at least for the time being. I think I may have to re-bleach the bins... and there were a few extra "worms" hanging around I didn't catch from my relentless hour long power spray from the hose throughout the colonoscopy of the garbage bins I performed... but WTF? I sprayed until the potential thunderstorm lightening bolts above my house were right above my garage. I did my part, and THEN SOME. Hubby asks if I took care of it when I walked in... Is it wrong to want to slap him in the face? :-/
No words, my friends, no words, just a nice strong martini and maggot free garbage cans at the side of my house. Also, VERY happy crows (and neighbors)... side note: I kind of like crows more now?