How little?

I was wondering the other day what the ratio of "little things" to "makes you happy" is considered to be normal. You know, on a range of people giving the "thank you wave" when you let them go ahead of you to a stranger saying "bless you" when you sneeze in a public place. Those all seem like pretty solid little things that proportionately give a nice feeling of happiness.

So what does it say about my life exactly that I was ecstatic the other night when I remembered I had purchased medium sized garbage bags for the trash can in the upstairs bathroom? Seriously, I was way too excited.

The Mr. was doing that ritual known as the Trash Round-Up. You know the one. The night before the morning the trash is picked up you go around and empty every trash can in the house. Other people do this too, right? I have memories from my youth as a child of my Dad making this round. Anyhoots, the trash can in our bathroom is not wicker, exactly. More wicker inspired...meaning it's got a lot of little holes in it. So it's really fun when there is no bag in there and perhaps someone (coughMrcough) has tossed a not quite empty Diet Coke can in there. Which then leaves a lovely little puddle, or even better - when I tip the trash up into a larger bag, sends drips flying all over the place. Like I need that extra bit of cleaning.

Wait - where was I? Oh yeah. So he comes in and empties the can, which I had lined with an old plastic shopping bag. That was when I remembered. THE MEDIUM BAGS! They fit this particular trash receptacle perfectly! No mess! Mo drips! The bag reaches all the way to the bottom! As I was waxing on about the joys of my medium bags I realize the Mr. is staring at me with a strange look on his face.

"What? It's the little things that make me happy." I hear myself say. He just shook his head and went to empty the next trash can.