A Fathers Rant

This past weekend was absolutely beautiful outside so we spent many hours in our backyard and watched the first mowing of the lawn – I love the smell of fresh cut grass by the way.  So of course with the sun shining, Sammy sleeping, and my winter claustrophobia melted away by the wide open (yet small) space of our backyard I couldn’t help but let out a bit of the ol’ Montana tornado:

Around this time I felt I was getting glared at a little by the old guy holding the camera.  What was that about?  He started babbling about how grass was like hair.  What?  Now I must admit I didn’t fully listen to what he was going on about but it had something to do with how both grow where you don’t want it to and does where it shouldn’t.  Again, what?  And why is he looking at me when discussing such nonsense?

First of all, I don’t understand hair in the first place.  Why not go for a nice sleek coat of natural fur?  Then maybe they wouldn’t have to worry about “style” and what is “fashionable.”  In my opinion, I look good EVERYDAY and I never even change my collar…not to say a good pedicure every now and again is not a joy – a girl needs good looking nails.  Even Sammy looks reasonably good everyday without changing his fur but to be honest, he could use a brush every now and again so he doesn’t get that matted down look.

Now, getting back to the issue at hand…

…apparently those gaps in the grass (the dirt parts) are not supposed to be there.  For some reason Dad thinks a lawn is supposed to be a contiguous expanse of grass without these gaps.

Likewise, grass is suppose to know that it should not extend into the gravel path or the garden section that is reserved for flowers and plants.  Hmm….how exactly does he expect grass to respect such arbitrary borders.  As he continued his soliloquy of derision I came over to inspect what he was going on about.

I could see the grass there and had to admit it was a little unsightly but I still didn’t know what I had to do with any of this and why it all started after I did my rounds around the yard.  Hey, nothing in my paws this time – although I guess these pictures don’t really constitute definitive video evidence…luckily for me there was no flag thrown so a video review was not necessary because it might not be “indisputable video evidence.”  In this case, I’ll just have to ask you to trust me that my toes are clean of grass clumps.

So why the incriminating looks?  He eventually explained that during my tornadic activities I not only rip out chunks of grass but also redeposit them in other areas in the back yard where the grass is not suppose to exist.  He eventually admitted that he has the same problem in the front yard – at least the part where the grass invaded the plant beds – so he relented and we had a great evening hanging out with each other as a family.  (psst – it is really hard to stay mad at me 🙂 ).

I guess that is about it for today.

But wait!  I forgot to ask him what this had to do with hair!  Why on earth did he compare grass and hair in the first place?  Better go back and clarify this matter.  Just a second…

So here it is.  According to him, he used to have hair on the top of his head (although I have never seen it) and not on his shoulders, or in his ears or…lets just leave it at that.  Hair isn’t where he wants it but is where he doesn’t.  I’ll spare you the photos.  Again, I suggested to him to just go for fur.  Much more practical.

Take care,

Montana Tornado