Every other morning, I drive past a construction site on the way to Lilly's preschool. While in the car, Lilly and I chatter about school, her friends, Meadow (hippie parents?) and Christina, and what's on the agenda for a morning of pre-K learning. Conversation usually ceases by the time I reach the orange flags; if it hasn't I briefly pause, steal a quick glance, and allow myself a giggle.
And every other morning, as I drive by I think, "One day, I'm going to take a picture of that."
This past week, that "one day" came! On the way home from the school I knew, "This is it. This is the moment." I had to stop.
There was no where to park that would not get me in trouble with a bearded, pot-bellied man and a bulldozer. So, being the determined and resourceful gal that I am, I pulled my "pimp mobile" (not really a pimp mobile) into a dead end street and parked outside a baby-pink colored house. I sprinted across a busy street (which is funny because I DO NOT sprint), and started "hoofing it" in my pretty, taupe ballet flats. I braved walking beneath a chilly, littered, gloomy overpass, as freeway traffic roared across the concrete above my head. More importantly, I braved the dirty ol' pigeons lurking and cooing in the rafters of that overpass. As I walked, I prayed they wouldn't poop on my "Red Berry" hair.
Finally (about a half a block later), I had arrived at my destination. In front of burly construction workers, several perplexed pedestrians on the sidewalk, oncoming traffic, and dirty, "prone-to-pooping-on-your-head" pigeons, I snapped the following picture...
...of a port-a-potty.
Not just any port-a-potty, my friends, the Honey Bucket. The. Honey. Bucket. Ha ha! THE HONEY BUCKET!! Eew, eew, eew, eew! Can you believe it? I've NEVER seen one called The Honey Bucket before. What a crack up!
Hope your weekend is as sweet as...well, nevermind.