Ah, Garbage. And Romance.

So, my garbage bag is leaking. All over the floor. Pink juice, likely from the sliced-off tops of oh, about, eight thousand strawberries.

Note: I am not even exaggerating about the eight thousand strawberries. Well, maybe a little, yes.

As an experienced Trophy Wife, I am accustomed to minor setbacks in life and I embrace the little pratfalls and pitfalls and Humpty Dumpty's Big Falls of daily living. Such as leaky, sticky garbage bags, yes.

Note: Well, maybe not embrace, exactly, but to not say a bad word, at least.

So, my garbage bag is leaking.

I inspect more closely. Imagine my surprise and delight when I see that the garbage leakage has formed an image of The Hub.

Sweet Holy Moses! It's a Miracle!

Who knew garbage could be so romantic?

Heck, yes!