a rabid creature is holding me hostage

So an age old debate in my house is that I REFUSE to take out the trash. That's DATs job, a man's job. Now, before you go all woman's lib on me, I was raised in a house of all women. My mother was a single parent raising two girls. Her mother was a single parent raising two boys and a girl. In that house, the two boys took out the trash. In the house in which I was raised, I may as well have been a boy because I took out trash morning noon and night. (My mom *dramatization - rabid squirrel may or may not have red glowing eyes

has a thing about odors and trash causes odors, thus out with the trash......all of it, any time, any amount) I don't live with my mother anymore, so trash is now sis's job. Oh well, sucks for her.

But I vowed, when I finally started shacking up with some guy, HE was taking out the trash. Daily, sometimes several times daily I might add. So yes, I have unfortunately inherited my mother's freakish sense of smell (I also can hear and see freakishly well). So I walk into the kitchen this morning all set to make that breakfast I was telling you about and I IMMEDIATELY smell the rank coming out of the trash. The VERY trash DAT didn't take out last night after dinner. Phew. I almost pass out, but I manage to pick up the whole damn can and put it outside of the door. Terribly tacky yes, but no one can really see and I really don't give a damn ESPECIALLY as far as my home's odor is concerned.

So I'm all set to give DAT a good talking to when he gets home but later in the day I have to go outside to throw something away. I open the door and there's trash EVERYWHERE and holes in the bag. I look around and there's a rabid creature at the bottom of the stairs looking at me and aparantly waiting for me to go back in the house because as soon as I scream and run, I look out the window and he's managed to scurry his mangy ass back up to my door to finish his shopping. I tap on the glass and he stops, looks at me and turns back to his business. So far today he's come and gone as he's pleased. And DAT has been yelled (CAPLOCK texts) and I have to run to the market, but in the meantime I'm being held hostage by this rabid creature and dinner will have to wait.

No I'm not bringing the can in the house for two reason. One, the shit stinks. Two, now it's got creature germs on it and if you think I dont do odors, you have NO idea how I feel about germs...