Posted on May 18, 2009



I WAKE UP to see that we own a whipper-snipper. I keep imagining the blade slapping across my finger as I install the plastic guard. I start going off on some eco-diatribe about how it should be unfashionable to cut grass. In an age where everything is supposed to be going “green” why are we mowing? Anna, my two year old raises her head from a bowl of yogurt coated Kashi cereal. The yogurt and bits of grain are all over her face.

“Grow up,” she says to me and returns her gaze to the depths of the bowl.

We decided to go stream the Hills downstairs but the show freezes on a frame of a slutty bartender. Outside, the whipper-snipper screams and I watch as thousands of little grass men are splattered against the basement window. It’s time to make lemonade. It will be a hot North American day today. You have to have lemonade. Have to.

Posted in: May 2009