The grass is always greener on the other side....literally

 It is only 8am and I have already broken two of the Ten Commandments. I have coveted my neighbor's lawn and murdered my husband....ok, maybe I haven't but it says in the scriptures even thinking something counts as if you have already done it....and boy am I thinking about it today!
 
A few weeks ago I nagged encouraged my sweetheart to perform his manly duties and pick up arms against the dandelion army that had invaded our front yard. They had organized themselves into a full frontal attack and I was darn tootin' that this year we would prevail! This meant war!
 
I rooted around in the garage until I found the super extra powerful weed killer that we had purchased at the end of last summer. I knew I had the right product since it showed a dandelion on the cover being tortured in an iron maiden.
  
We had been out smarted, out lasted, and out done by  annoying weeds since we had moved in 8 years prior and I was more than determined to do whatever was legally possible to administer a lethal dose of whoop A' to those little yellow lawn pimples . 

 Our neighbors all had nice green carpet like lawns. Some even flaunted their weed free flower beds and little upside down tomato and strawberry hanging plants (cough, cough, Brian). I couldn't even get things to grow right side up! Their mockery seemed completely unneighborly if you ask me. This year I would show them, I was determined that our lawn would be the talk of the neighborhood!
 
I found Danny hiding under a quilt in the linen closet. He said that he couldn't hear me calling him but from the shifty eyes I had my doubts.
 
I handed him the explode-a-weed and pointed to the front door. In the background I blasted the sound track to his favorite movie “Braveheart”. I then ceremoniously smeared on some Barbie makeup war paint and insisted he take off his shirt while I tugged on his Scottish kilt…. It was actually one of my daughter's pink plastic hula skirts but we were in a pinch and I figured it was close enough.
 
By the time I shoved him out the door, locking it firmly behind him, I must have done a pretty good job getting him into character because when he turned to look at me, with my face pressed against the front window and flashing him a a-o-k sign, his face read nothing but REVENGE! I almost felt sorry for the little buggers.
 
An hour later he triumphantly stumbled into the house. Pink War paint smeared with dirt ran down his face and his hula skirt kilt was in shambles. He grabbed me in a manly embrace, dipped me low and with the smolder of a baritone, declared victory over the front yard! His eager kiss oozed with pure warrior testosterone and tasted like strawberries from the Barbie shimmer lipgloss. It took my breath away!
 
By the next day, I was ready to view the battle field. How many bodies would I joyously trample beneath my feet on the way to the mail box? 10? 20? I relished the thought.
 
The first thing I noticed when stepping onto our front porch was the lack of weeds, just as I had hoped. Instead of holding their white seeded stems of mockery 5 inches high, they dropped centimeters from the ground...pathetically. They were suffering and I basked in their demise!
 
The second thing I noticed was the large yellowing rings that surrounded the dying enemy. Giant yellow ring of grass.....and they were everywhere!

I was greatly concerned and I immediately called Danny at work. "Why does our yard look like it has the measles?" I asked in my calm warning voice. "What did you do?"

He assured me that the yellowing was completely normal and just meant that the dandelions were well on their way to weed purgatory. "Nothing to worry your pretty little head over" he mocked lovingly into the phone. I figured his uncharacteristic cockiness stemmed from some sort of after war shell shock since he knows how much I love condescending sexist statements. Lucky for him 7 miles of phone line separated us, because if he was to have followed that remark with a head pat, I would have broken his arm.

Days passed and the demon dandelions continued to die.....and so did my yard. Within 4 days I had rivers of barren wasteland weaving its way through every inch of my grass like tiny crop circles.

Finally admitting concern, Danny dug up a clump of grass and we raced the sample to the lawn ER -Zamzowz. The yard guy met us with a grin. A few weeks earlier he had tried to sell us their lawn program at which we privately exchanged winks of superiority and said we were confidant we didn't need it since we knew what we were doing and had everything under control. I could tell from his demeanor he knew we would be back, tails tucked between our legs.

After a few tut tut's and heavy sighs he concluded that it might be possible to save the lawn. It was his suspicion that my 'handy man extraordinaire' may have used the wrong ratio of water to weed killer when mixing it. I shot Danny an accusing look but couldn't get his attention since he had his face buried in a game of angry birds. "I retain the best when I'm multi-tasking" he remarked without looking up, "it's just the way I process things".

We left the store with $40 in intensive care lawn products and strict instruction of the amount of application. Mix 1 cup per 1 gallon of water and saturate the dying areas. I repeated this to Danny 3 times on our way home until his eyes threw daggers in my direction.

"I can follow directions you know! There is no proof that what happened to our lawn is my fault!" he spit at me defensively. "You're right of course" I sweetly replied, "the fact that our yard looks like a dairy cow and every spot just happens to be in the exact places you used the weed killer has to be coincidence, right?" I matched his icy stare with one of my own. "Purely circumstantial” he whispered loudly enough for me to hear and refocused on driving.

Once home, Danny set to work administering lawn CPR while I prepared dinner. After he was done I remarked on how quickly he was able to apply the thrive to the lawn. "You used one cup per one gallon of water right" I asked skeptically

"Yes babe" he said exasperatedly, "It didn’t take that much you know, it's not like I was supposed to saturate it". My eyes widened in disbelief "YES" I yelled "it was EXACTLY like you were supposed to saturate it!”

He stared back at me blankly.
 
I found the bottle of thrive and took 3 deep breaths to calm myself. If measured correctly the entire bottle would have barely covered the whole front yard. It was still 3/4th full. I then grabbed the explode-a-weed and was anything but shocked to feel that only drops remained when it should have been mostly full.
 
Mystery of the disintegrating lawn solved.
 
It's been a week now and despite our efforts there has been little change. The Good news is that among the rolling tumble weeds and barren wasteland that streams through what remains of our front yard, some green has started to resurface ....the bad news is that it seems we have only managed to resurrect the weeds.
 

Oh goody.

Sour Milk

Last night we sat down to partake of our delicious meal of homemade Mac n cheese (the kind that is oozing with gooey goodness and leaves a string of melted cheddar from plate to mouth) when my youngest daughter, Kaila, made a startling comment. "This milk tastes like fish!"


We had just began eating and I had not had the opportunity to try my milk yet, and since we inhale milk at our house at an impressive rate, it has never, in 11 years of marriage, made it even close to an expiration date.


Kaila is known for her dramatics so I assumed we were gearing up for an award winning production of "let's blow everything out of proportion". So I gave her a stern look and a warning tone "drink your milk and if you keep complaining I'll assume you're dehydrated and I fill your glass with more"


That is my answer to any type of whining. Give them more of whatever they are complaining about. Rebelling at bedtime?...they must be overly tired and need to be sent to bed earlier so they can get more sleep. Complaining about an annoying sibling?....they must not appreciate one another and are made to spend more time together......Roll your eyes at your mother for hugging you goodbye at school?.....they must need more affection so I'll leave them with a hug AND a kiss next time. This system works surprisingly well!


Kaila dipped an eyebrow in concern but raised her glass to her lips again and took the smallest of sips. Just to demonstrate how ridiculous she was I grabbed my full glass and took a swig. It was cold....refreshing....and.....fishy?


I looked around the table at the others. Allana, my marathon milk drinker, had drained her glass before the prayer had time to leave our lips and she was was winding a large forkful of cheese with pure joy. Danny also had emptied his glass and was now savoring each cheesy mouthful in what only could be described as PG-13 rated expressions. Makenna was too busy talking to no one in particular about her day at school and she had yet to touch her plate, or glass.


Not wanting to cause concern I reasoned that milk has a tendency to take on the taste of whatever the cows had recently eaten. Munching on onions causes a slight onion flavored milk. Certain clovers can sweeten a gallon or two. Perhaps this cow had unknowingly wandered into....ummm...a stream? Snuck up on an unsuspecting fish, hoofed it to death, and then eaten it? Seemed unlikely.


I asked Allana to please go to the fridge and retrieve the milk carton. She was happy to oblige hoping to beg off another refill. I turned the carton and located the expiration date. To my horror it was over a week expired! How could this be? Did it get shoved to the back of the shelf when new gallons were bought and then resurfaced only after all the others had been drank? Whatever the reason, I knew what I must do.


PUT YOUR GLASSES DOWN! I announced. Conversations stopped and all eyes turned to me. "We have a situation" I went on, "the milk in your glasses have expired and is no longer good to drink, please make an orderly line to the sink and dispose of it immediately"


Have you ever seen a movie where an unknown epidemic spreads throughout a town or country and people go into a state of hysteria and panic? Insert my family and welcome to the show.


Makenna (saved by her gift of gab) had only taken a swallow. Wide eyed she slowly slide her glass into the center of the table as if it contained acid and even a drop of it would melt the skin off her hand clean to the bone.


Allana stood frozen in mid twirl carefully taking an inventory of how her inners were settling. "I drank a full glass" she said in a shocked state, her face frozen in a doom-like expression, as if I had just told her the doctor called and she had two days to live.


Danny smacked his lips together thoughtfully."I didn't even notice" he said in a surprised tone. "Oh well a little diarrhea never hurt anyone." I immediately wanted to point out that people who had died of Dysentery would probably disagree but changed my mind and kept quiet not wanting to add to the frenzy and glad for his optimistic attitude.


And Kaila.....my poor theatrical bundle of useless energy. Her eyes glazed over, her body went ridged, and within seconds she started making gagging noises, willing her body to rid itself of the poison within. "Am I going to die?" she asked weakly supporting herself on a nearby chair.


"No honey, a stomach ache maybe....death? Unlikely" I answered with rolled eyes.


This did little to appease her. Over the next two hours I had to witness episodes of stumbling and drunk like weaving, all due to the effects of the tainted milk. Arms too weak to pick up her backpack or hold a pencil to complete her homework. And several announcements that she was sure that the stomach ache she was experiencing meant that she was bleeding internally and because I refused to take her to the hospital, and I was the one who forced to to drink the poisoned milk, I would probably be charged with murder after they found her cold lifeless body In the morning......all in all she was handling it better then I thought.


I had just gotten all my sleeping beauties off to their assigned beds and had settled in with a good book when out of the corner of my eye I saw movement at my bedroom door.


Kaila staggered to my bedside. She stared into space as if looking for something far off into the distance. "Yesssss?" I inquired exasperatedly " Can I help you with something?"


"Mom?" she answered as if surprised "Mom is that you?" she turned her head towards my voice but continued to look straight head, her hand searched the top of my quilt until it rested upon mine.


"I was sleeping" she continued "and when I woke up everything was blurry......(insert a dramatic gulp)....Mom I think the poisoned milk.....(another dramatic gulp)..... has made me BLIND!"


Dun Dun Dun!!!


It took all my strength not to burst into hysterical laughter. Where does this kid get her imagination? Did I unknowingly eat some tainted mushrooms when I was pregnant? Maybe her nursery walls contained lead paint? Whatever the reason this was out there, even for her.


I prepared for my tactical maneuver "Sweetheart put yourself back to bed and if in the morning you are still blind I will look into getting you a seeing eye dog" I had tapped into her weakness. Dogs.


Satisfied with my proposition Kaila felt her way along my bedroom wall, expertly stepping over stray shoes and decorative pillows as she made her way back to her room.


In the morning, as usual, all was forgotten and back to normal. No one had died or been permanently maimed and surprisingly, a miracle had happened and Kaila's eye sight had returned....hallelujah!!!