My husband is a man of few dreams as he is quite content with a mostly clean house, housebroken pets and a good dinner on the table. Clean laundry is a plus, too. One of his dreams, however, has been to have a kitchen trash can that automatically opens when you want to make a deposit. Shopping one day, his wish was granted as there was the prize of his dreams and it was on sale, too, always a plus to get me to agree. He happily brought it home and set it up.
He came over to the new kitchen ‘family’ member with trash and held it over the lid. Nothing. He moved closer and . . . not a whisper of cooperation. He touched the lid and it opened rather reluctantly (as far as I could see as I can’t read appliance demeanor of any genre).
My husband took it apart and put it together, again, to insure it was done perfectly. It was still reluctant to accept his offerings of trash. He packed it up and returned it to the store and replaced it with another one. It was a very close cousin as it seemed to have the same stubborn streak as the first one. My husband gave up at that point, walked across to the kitchen sink to wash his hands . . . and the lid happily popped open. When the lid closed again (Much to the dismay, wonderment, and shock of our cats), my husband rounded up a trash offering and approached it. Nothing! Not even a glimmer of cooperation. He raised his hands in exasperation and, naturally, with a suppressed appliance grin, it immediately opened up.
These days, the trash can is mostly kind to my husband but always obeys me. I don’t know why. Perhaps, I deliver more interesting trash. Then, again, I didn’t call it any names which I will not mention here.