I am the table.

I spied through a fence a short, hard plastic shelf with a neon green top, yellow legs and a blue base.  I knew I had found Belle's new (to her) toddler table.  I asked someone behind the fence if the colorful shelf were indeed being tossed out with tomorrow's garbage.  He confirmed it was, along with a good looking wooden object I couldn't identify.  When I said I didn't know how to access that side of the fence, the guy handed it to me over the fence.  I thanked him and set the shelf atop Belle's push chair. An embittered old woman I know from the neighborhood got all butt hurt when she noticed I had a new table and she didn't.  She demanded to know where and how I got the table.  I ignored her and just kept walking, sure my attitude would fuel her fire.  Belle has a cute new table now and I have a backbone.