There was a time when we had arguably the best yard on the block and with the exception of the old retired guy one cul-de-sac over, possibly the entire neighborhood. We weed wacked, edged, mulched, sprinkled and fertilized to our heart's content. It was pristine. An oasis of emerald green, it beckoned bare feet from as far away as six houses in either direction. One step into that yard and your toes wiggled in orgasmic delight.
Then we had kids.
"Lo-Laaaaaaah. Where are youuuuu?"
"Lola Geist. What. Have. You. Done!?!" As if I even needed to ask.
What's in My Head
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