On Sunday, we forced the boy to help rake up the fifty-nine squillion leaves that were scattered all over our front and back yards. We gave him the usual cliches, like how hard work builds character. We quoted scripture, reminding him that blessings come to the hands that aren’t idle.
And, indeed, the boy did his fair share of helping get the leaves off of our grass, into the back of the truck, and dumped out into a mulch pile across town. He was every bit as dirty as Hubs and I were, when we finally called it quits, because the time change pitched us into darkness a little earlier than usual.
Truthfully, Hubs and I were proud of the boy, and how well he managed to pitch in for a family work day. And then, when it was all over and he was headed to the shower, the boy announced, “Mom, I have no idea why Dad decided to build a house in the middle of a bunch of trees. I sure wish he’d just built us a house in the desert; it’s where I would’ve built one.”
Well said, King Tut. And maybe your daddy could have shaped it like a pyramid and used the hot glue gun to stick plastic gems all over it. And then we’d never be forced to rake leaves again.