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Skips? Never again!!!

I remember the first and only time I got a skip, “never again”, I said. We had just started renovating our bathroom, finally after years of waiting, we were upgrading our facilities, new bath, sink, toilet, flooring and of course my favourite, the tiles! White gleamy sparkly brand new tiles. We were all very excited, out with the old and in with the new, but with all the excitement came the stress of removing the old waste, the builders said they couldn’t take it so we should get a skip. I immediately began searching and comparing prices, it wasn’t long before I found a suitable option; 6 yard skip for £180+vat, they drop off and collect whenever you want, can’t ask for more than that, didn’t give it a second thought and booked the skip for the following day.

The kids and I were given the honour of smashing the old tiles off the wall, I enjoyed it more than a grown man should, “the skips here” yelled my wife with a tone of excitement in her voice, it seemed that everything she said during this renovation period had a twang of excitement, even something as trivial as “have you washed the dishes” sounded soothing to my ears. I ran downstairs where I was greeted by a man I can only describe as ‘slightly high’. “sorry fella but your drives too small so gonna have to chuck it on the road”, ‘fella’? I assume he meant me. “yeah that’s fine” I replied, “doesn’t change anything”, “well actually” he said whilst casually scrolling through his phone, “technically you should have a permit to park it on a public road, but I won’t tell if you don’t” he whispered whilst tapping his pen on his nose. I took on-board his offer to assist me in breaking the law and resisted the temptation to inform him of my day job as a police officer! Instead I phoned up my local council and forked out an additional £80+vat for the permit. The cost was starting to add up but I guess I had no other choice.

 

The kids and I began throwing some items into the skip, I did expect the builders to help but I guess removing the old stuff wasn’t part of their job description, and besides there is something quite amusing in watching a 6 year old attempt to drag an entire bathtub down a flight of stairs. We managed to get most of the waste into the skip, and it was fair to say that I was exhausted, my back had surrendered and my hands torn to shreds, but nevertheless the skip was a quarter full with more than enough space to accommodate the rest of the junk, but that would have to wait until the morning.

The next morning I woke up a bit worse for wear but ready to tackle the task ahead, when all of a sudden my wife burst through the door and flung open the curtains, “eh husband, we have a problem” the tone of excitement in her voice was no longer there which means something was seriously wrong. I staggered over to the window and could not believe for the life of me what I was witnessing, “the skip…… it’s.…..it’s…. full?” How did this happen, I ran downstairs and straight outside, I circled the skip over and over again, each time my disbelief grew larger and larger. It was completely full! The kids ran outside “daddy, daddy… what happened”? I turned to look at their disappointed little faces, “what happened?”, “well I think….. I think someone filled the skip”, “he’s a policeman you know” my wife said as she rolled her eyes. I gazed upon the contents of the skip wondering how I had not heard a single sound throughout the night, I looked upon each item placed perfectly onto the other as if the skip had been filled by a group of silent ninjas with black belts in the ancient art of Tetris. It would seem that the sight of a partially empty skip was enough for all the neighbours to begin an overnight spring clean. That was the last time I ever used a skip!!