Trash Night

Tanya enters the door only to find her mother on her hands and knees furiously scrubbing the floor. She looks, "Oh Tanya, I'm so glad you're home. Your father called and he's having the Forresters and Kenyons over on Sunday for dinner. The house is an absolute mess."

Tanya rolls her eyes. She hates when her father invites his work colleagues for dinner. it always turns her mother into an absolute stressball neat freak. Tanya attempts to walk by and dismiss her. "Aw, Mom, that blows. Well, good luck getting everything cleaned up!"

"Freeze, young lady!" Typically she'd go "la-la-la" and ignore her mother, listening for the frustrated motherly sigh as she closed her bedroom door, but suddenly finds herself stopping in her tracks. "Your brother is at the movies and your father is working late. It's up to us to get this house in tip-top shape. I expect you to vacuum, clean the kitchen, scrub the bathroom, and, when we're finished, take out the trash. And," she punctuates, "you'll be happy out it." Understood?"

She really hates when her mother gets this way. Usually, she'd throw a spoiled tantrum and call her father, but this time she feels a smile creasing her face as she responds, "of course, Mom, I'd be happy to help you clean on a Friday night."

Her mother scowls assuming her bratty teenager is being sarcastic.

Tanya starts working with her mom to get the house cleaned up. She does it without a single complaint and, often, with a happy hum. Her mother is shocked that whenever she asks her daughter to do another chore, she happily agrees and gets straight to it. In a few hours, Tanya is on her final chore of taking out the trash. As she drops the full bag of garbage in the bin she remembers Kyle's words from lunch on Thursday: "Wear nothing but a trash bag. We'll call it trashion."

Right, she needs a trash bag to wear to Kyle's game tomorrow. After her mother thanks her for finishing all of the chores Tanya grabs an empty trash bag and heads upstairs.

She looks at the big black bag and isn't impressed with how it looks. "A little frumpy," she says but still certain she'll wear it tomorrow. She wonders about "trashion" so she does a quick google search on the word. She's surprised to find some photos of models on catwalks with tailored trashbags. "I can do that," she thinks as she finds one that's simple.

Tanya spends the rest of the night tailoring the garbage bag to match the photo from the Internet. She looks for some shorts to wear underneath, but before putting them on the words "nothing but a trash bag" echo in her mind. "I won't need these," she says as she tosses the shorts aside. She tries on the bag and is impressed by how well the top part fits, however, the bottom, well, as she turns in front of the mirror and bends forward just a little bit she watches the bag ride up and her butt cheeks come into view. She blushes but thanks to Kyle's order the only logical response she can come up with is "guess I'll need to avoid bending over."

Content with her brilliant trash bag solution, Tanya tucks herself into bed and falls asleep for the night.

The next morning, she wakes up, showers, and slips into her trash bag dress. "Okay," she thinks, "here I go."