Because I'm A Tard

Ugh, so politically incorrect!

Anyway.

So after I got home yesterday I walked the dogs. And I noticed that nobody else in my family had brought the trash and recycle bins back to their home behind the house (yesterday was trash collection day, nearly a holiday in Memphis because of 1968 and the only real reason we're famous other than Elvis) (that was an amazing sentence). And I did what any normal person would do. I put the dogs inside and went to the curb to get the garbage cans, lugged them up the stairs to our house, then did a double-take. The strip of lawn between the sidewalk and the curb had been OVERTAKEN with clover. And the clover was deep and luxurious and really effing inappropriate for our house, so lovingly decorated for the holidays.

This is where things go a little nutty. (Keep in mind the course of events: arrive home from work, walk dogs, lug garbage cans.) (Notice I never mention "Change into casual clothes.") I go to the back of the house, where our storage room is, and get the weed-eater. Which is a little broken, so I have to hold it together. And I weed-eat the clover. Which doesn't seem too insane, except it was 40 degrees, I'm wearing my work clothes, and oh, did I mention that it was DARK outside?

Yep. I'm a tard. And also? Busted by two neighbors. And my kids even came outside to watch mommy go completely bat$hit.

And I'm off to post on the new blog that the Husband and I have started.