Bin Wars

If you were to hang around the back of our flat on a Wednesday evening you would notice some strange behaviour going on.

It'll be me. Undercover. Taking part in Operation Wheelie a.k.a Mission Don't-Piss-Me-Off-By-Putting-Your-Bin-Bags-In-My-Bin.

It's pretty much a solo operation, although I sometimes draft in the boyfriend as second in command.

Ok, ok, I know it's a relatively minor offence and I sound like some crazy Middle Englander who sits at the window with binoculars and a notebook, logging the comings and goings of their neighbours.

I have no problem with people putting the odd bin bag in my bin - I'm all cool with that baby. What I do have a problem with is when people don't bother putting their bins out to be emptied and then decide that it's ok to put all their bin liners in our bin so that you can't shut the lid.

Not ok people!

Especially when I've had the cats for 6 days and have cat litter and stinky cat poo in my bin, making the flat smell distinctly like a crazy old lady's maisonette.

Only one thing to do in that situation. Remove the offending articles so that I can put mine in.

Under cover of darkness, I crept out of the back door and scouted the area for enemy approach. All clear. I moved in to extract the foreign objects and neutralise the situation...

I hate myself for doing it and I would have died if anyone had come out and seen me (I'm not really one for confrontation. I'll sound off to my heart's content behind closed doors but my mouth will remainly fimly shut when confronted with a situation).

However there comes a time when a woman has to stand up for what she believes in and today that happens to be my right to keep my bin for my own bin bags.

I need to get out more.