The wife and I returned from our anniversary dinner Saturday to our darkened home, as I forgot to turn off the front porch light. I had posted a message on freecycle about a small maple tree we wanted to donate.
As I pulled into our driveway, I noticed a pile of roots on the front yard.
“Hey, what’s that? Did someone come get the tree?”
“Looks like it, there’s a big pile of HEY! WHERE’S MY YARD!??!”
While we were having dessert in the garden of a bistro, under the shade of a pear tree, our gardener friend from church, Luis, was taking a backhoe to my front yard. He’s replacing the old, galvanized-pipe sprinkler system, after I ripped my heel on a sprinkler head that stuck out of the ground a few inches. Amelia shredded one of her toes on the same sprinkler head. We’ve named it “The Widowmaker”.
For the record, Amelia asked me to put on my shoes not 30 minutes before I tripped on my sandals and cut my heel. At least it didn’t happen on our anniversary weekend.
Hurt me, hurt my woman, you leave me no choice but to call in an air strike. At least that’s what it looked like afterward. If you look closely, you can see the twisted galvanized pipe.
After seeing the wreckage on his iPhone, my brother commented “Ay ! War torn Yugoslavia, reporting from the front lines.”