The real scoop.

My greatest sin used to be my refrigerator. I would store leftovers dutifully in plastic containers, only to watch them decompose awfully, and finally, I would breathe through my mouth long enough to clean it out. I have gotten better. Well, there's hardly any leftovers any more. I guess I've just gotten better at portion control. Now my greatest sin is my car. Now, I love my car. It gets me where I want to go admirably. And it used to live at the bottom of a big hill, so that was my excuse for it getting all littered up with stuff. Now, it is just around the corner of the house, in the little carport, still crammed with stuff. There is dog stuff, of course, the leash, water bowl (actually an old Cool Whip container, but it works), brush and towel for emergencies, as well as paper towels for picking up poop, and plastic bags, too. Then there is the gym bag and towel, the writing group journal and exercise book, a box of Kleenex, the spare books I keep for idle moments, when I have to wait somewhere, and an old O magazine that a friend gave me. In the center console I keep spare glasses, a small pair of scissors, my AAA card and gas station receipts, until it gets too full, then I bring them into the house to file with paid bills. The glove compartment (and isn't that just so civilized and old-fashioned, glove compartment) holds my manual, service records, registration and insurance, of course, along with a comb, hand lotion, cologne, air freshener, hair spray, pens and an extra pair of sunglasses. The side pockets are full of CD cases, some actually with CDs in them. And there is a CD holder attached to the passenger side visor. The pocket in the back of the seat holds my sun visor thingy, an umbrella, and God knows what else, because I never look in there. Oh, and my Big Book lives in the car, too. And my cell phone, because I have one of those adaptors to charge it from the cigarette lighter plug. The ashtray is full of change, and down to nickels, dimes and pennies, too. I must replenish it with quarters, for parking meters, you see. Once, I locked my wallet in the office, and was happy to have that change so I could call for help (a per-cell phone moment). I also keep water on board, for me as well as Boo. I don't even want to mention the trunk. I have not seen the bottom of it since I had to disgorge all the stuff by the side of the road to get to the training wheel they call a spare, one flat tire ago. I know there is a backpack in there, and a bag of books that was going somewhere. I am adding a package of cookies to the mix today, my contribution to the noon meeting on Friday. So, that's my true confession for the day. At least it is clean, my car, though it is hard to tell, under all the stuff.