"It Smelled Like Something Died in There!"

No, it's not my closet.
No, it's not under my bed.
No, it's not my gym bag.
Heck, I could go on forever with this.
According to my Dad, I need "punishment". This is my "punishment".
So, I'm very Earth-friendly, and I'm all for making the Earth healthier. I was cleaning out my cats litterbox [and, on another note, I always clean out the litterbox! Why can't Claire do it?] and there was only two measly pieces of poop in it. [We should probably feed him more.] So, I took out a plastic bag and put the poop in. Then I tucked away the bag in a cabinet. Not the smartest idea on my part.
Fast forward a couple days. My Dad is cleaning out the litterbox [cause I'm not there] and he opens the cabinet [that I put the poop in] and he reels over. It "smelled like something had died in there". He takes out the bag, and throws it away.
But just hold on for 1 second. Let me give you my side of the story. I thought that it would be a waste to put the poop in a bag and then throw it away. I mean, it's so wasteful! [Now I realize that I could have just left the poop in there. Hehe.]