Let me start by say that I am a firm believer that people set things out in the trash for a reason. The reason being that it's trash. Now, my husband has a different view entirely. This might explain why we have a few things sitting in our basement that were once in someone else's trash pile. He's a trash picker. I am not.
One day last week, I came home to find someone else's trash setting in the kids' wagon. I was not happy because I knew where this was going to lead. It would be like a conversation I had with Dan once upon a time when Curtis (our once stray black cat) wandered in to our garage...a "can we keep him" kind of a conversation only this time he would be speaking about someone else's trash and not a living creature.
Once inside, I could not help but see the excitement in his eyes. He had truly found what he considered to be a treasure...not trash at all. It was then I decided that it could come in and I would help him clear a space for this piece of trash in, of all places, my living room.
Wouldn't you know, it fits, it's comfortable, and I am sitting in this piece of trash as I type.
It just goes to show you that the saying is true (most of the time):
One man's trash is another man's treasure:
the piece of trash :-)