We Can Put a Price On Our Pride. It's $80.

I was just quietly perusing Facebook when Bruce informed me he needed some help with some trash retrieval.

ME: Seriously?
HIM: Heck, yeah. When we were at the park today I saw my exact same lawn mower in the dumpster there. The tires alone are like 40 bucks each.
ME: You've got to be *****ing me.
HIM: Nope. But I'll let you blog about it.
ME: Let me change out of my white skirt.
HIM: That's a good idea- we don't want anyone seeing us.
ME: I'm not trying to be stealthy, I just don't want to be filthy.
HIM: Girls, get in the car! We're going dumpster diving!
KATE: I hope there's no REAL diving.
ME: Yeah, well I hope there's no REAL dumpster.

Fresh out of the bath and ready for anything.

"I'm not embarrassed, I just don't want my face in this picture."

Thankfully, the loot was on top.

Thrilled by the thought of a life on the lam.

Kiki held the flashlight.

I had to completely suspend my disbelief when Bruce hoisted the mower (alone, I might add, so we all didn't even really need to go) out of the dumpster and said, "This thing doesn't even have a blade!" Yeah, whoever it was who threw that broken lawn mower in a dumpster had a lot of nerve. Sheesh.