The Shortest Gardener
Sprout has been helping in the garden recently; I think he has Auntie Bean's green thumb. Hopefully some day he won't find himself working at Home Despot too...
The wheelbarrow was fun enough, but he was nearly beside himself the day the rototiller man that the neighbour hired let him work the plough (with Daddy's assistance).
It rained all day today, so I haven't been buzzing around gardening in the dark. Tomorrow should be a good digging day, though, with damp, soft soil. I shall meet my sworn enemy, Campanula (a.k.a. the evil purple bellflower), I shall prevail. It shall feel my wrath, yea, I do swear.
3 Comments:
I think there is no reason to fear that the Sprout will work at the De-poo. You would have had to expose him to toxic levels of leaded paint fumes at 6 months of age for him to lose that many brain cells. Hmmmm, I wonder where I'd be today with an intact set? I'd be sooo annoyingly smart!
Oh, and we really must discuss fashionable gardening attire...lest you cause irrevocable harm to the boy's psyche. I still cannot block out Aunt Frieda's brown-shorts-purple-nylons-high-step-dancing-to-Me-and-Bobby-McGee phase. Never mind, you'll never achieve that level of horror, even on your worst days. Carry on.
Oh, bug off! I like my gigantic overalls! :)
And I can happily report that I have never high-stepped to Me n Bobby McGee.
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