I think I’m going to add a subtitle to my blog name.
Digging Suburbia.
Pushing the limits on child labor laws.
Because really, they’re around, they’re available, they’re {mostly} willing, and they’re easily bribed.
Saturday was gorgeous, we got {almost} everything seeded, the kids tore up the house, but really…there’s only one story you need to hear. So let’s begin.
I asked my beautiful sister to move a volunteer alyssum from one of the beds over to the spot where I actually seeded some alyssum a couple weeks ago.
We were having a nice conversation…or so I thought. {Except for the part where she kept referring to it as asylum and not alyssum.}
{Whatever. Bugging since ’83.}
Suddenly, sister begins to not know what to do with her hands.
A few seconds later, there’s a slight breeze…
and then out of nowhere, I find myself super confused and standing all alone. No, it was not the rapture…it was my sister FLIPPING OUT at MOVING A PLANT.
50 yard dash
Many thanks to my awesome brother in law who captured these images for posterity, but let’s not lose focus here:
SHE LEFT ME IN MY TIME OF NEED.
{Last time I saw her run like that was when I challenged her to a Connect 4 tournament…BOOM.}
You may read this and think, “why so Judgey McJudgerson? Your sister provided 50% of your child labor needs,” and to you I would have to say, “touche. Now, which way to the asylum?”
