There’s a game we play at home.
Or at least I think it’s a game. I may also need to consider whether “we” play it at all?
Bin Buckaroo takes its name from the now, no doubt redundant game from my youth – Buckaroo. If you are not familiar with Buckaroo, it was a coiled, plastic horse that you had to place items of a cowboy’s pack on to; before it sprung in to life. Much like Mr Pop, another game lost to technology and online participation, the element of fun came from the panic induced, surprise “explosion” of toy and associated parts. Eyes were nearly lost to the game; actual parts more so.
The loser was the last person in contact before it bucked.
Bin Buckaroo starts with a fairly full bin. Though as any exponent of the game will tell you – there is no such thing as a full bin. Not until it starts to “buck”. Each player will then take it in turn to squash the load of the bin down, sometimes as far as half way, in order to put another piece of rubbish away – thus negating the removal of the bag.
The game then starts to get interesting when you have to decide whether the bin requires a) more effort to squash it down than take it out, b) will end up bursting the bag if you compact it too tightly – thus causing more mess or c) what is on the top could explode in a noxious cloud of stink and stain if you put too much pressure on it. A real Bin Buckaroo aficionado will laugh at a) and mock the idea of b) and c).
Eventually, at some point, the bag will have to come out. The deciding factor is usually one of two things – either the bin lid won’t close, or much like this morning, it is bin day.
Amy is currently the reigning Bin Buckaroo champion. The deciding factor was not just it being bin day, but also that I had a dead fish in my hand. See, there is a wildcard of the dog. A dead fish could be too tempting for her to root around in the top, and thus pull out half of our (my?) good work during the last game. So I fell on my proverbial sword – in this case a guppy wrapped in kitchen roll – and conceded the game.
Amy rarely celebrates. This leads me to believe I am the only person playing – but then, maybe that’s what she wants me to think? Champions tend to be sneaky like that.
Ah well, on to another game. Seven more days until the bins are collected – let’s see how long we can stretch this one out for.