Before I left last weekend, I treated myself to a minor indulgence. My laundry hamper probably dates back to duty as a diaper pail for Emily, or at least close to that. Over the years, it's been tossed down the cellar stairs dozens of times, been lumped and bumped by walls, floors and aminals, and finally lost its shape completely in recent weeks where even the Interstate Highway System of duct tape on the edges of the top couldn't hold it together anymore.
So I set out last week for my first hamper purchase of the century. First, I tried Kohl's, which is constantly sending us "$10 off anything even if the price is less than that" cards; a lovely idea, except their conceptual department structure- "wear," "create," "eat" and whatnot- didn't include one for "store" or "stink," and so the coupon card came home unused (and Eleanor used it for something or other over the weekend).
Finally, I resorted to Wally World. They had tons of "store" in store, but very little of it fit the traditional description of laundry hamper. Plenty of bigger baskets, but none that would fit within my closet- except for one:

That's the beast. Removable liner, right sized, ten dollars to compensate the 40 or so hours of cheap Chinese labor that went into it. Sold. It went into my closet and remained until laundry night earlier tonight, when I suddenly realized:
Hello, my name is Ray, and I am an accidental thief.
The suckers stack on the Walmart shelves, you see. And I'd somehow managed to bring home a duplex of dumpsters, for which I'd only paid for the one on top.
My first thought was to return the lower unit, but health laws probably prevent them from putting it back into circulation. (Assuming, that is, we even have any health laws after the next election.) I asked Eleanor if she could use it, and after a moment of a very small crisis of conscience, she admitted, yeah, she wouldn't mind an extra basket around here.
I kept the tag from the lower-level unit of the duplex, so if I'm feeling especially guilty, I can ask a Walmart Associate to scan it and pay for it next time I'm in there. More likely, though, I'll just make a 10-dollar donation to a better cause than the Walton Family Trust. Suggestions are completely welcome:)
So I set out last week for my first hamper purchase of the century. First, I tried Kohl's, which is constantly sending us "$10 off anything even if the price is less than that" cards; a lovely idea, except their conceptual department structure- "wear," "create," "eat" and whatnot- didn't include one for "store" or "stink," and so the coupon card came home unused (and Eleanor used it for something or other over the weekend).
Finally, I resorted to Wally World. They had tons of "store" in store, but very little of it fit the traditional description of laundry hamper. Plenty of bigger baskets, but none that would fit within my closet- except for one:
That's the beast. Removable liner, right sized, ten dollars to compensate the 40 or so hours of cheap Chinese labor that went into it. Sold. It went into my closet and remained until laundry night earlier tonight, when I suddenly realized:
Hello, my name is Ray, and I am an accidental thief.
The suckers stack on the Walmart shelves, you see. And I'd somehow managed to bring home a duplex of dumpsters, for which I'd only paid for the one on top.
My first thought was to return the lower unit, but health laws probably prevent them from putting it back into circulation. (Assuming, that is, we even have any health laws after the next election.) I asked Eleanor if she could use it, and after a moment of a very small crisis of conscience, she admitted, yeah, she wouldn't mind an extra basket around here.
I kept the tag from the lower-level unit of the duplex, so if I'm feeling especially guilty, I can ask a Walmart Associate to scan it and pay for it next time I'm in there. More likely, though, I'll just make a 10-dollar donation to a better cause than the Walton Family Trust. Suggestions are completely welcome:)