Take, for instance, weeds. Yesterday I sent the middle two out to clean out the garden. After having weeded for me many times in the past, you’d think they would know by now what my standards are. They “weeded (oh, sure)” and they tilled. Mmm hmm. They declared themselves to be done. Every weed had been vanquished. Putting on my inspector hat, I headed outside to verify their story, which, it turns out, was a fairy tale.
Some of the taller weeds were easily visible from the road. As I foraged through the underbrush that they had left, I heard one of them yelling from the side of the garden to the other one, “Where did Mom go?”
“I’m in the middle of this jungle. See the green stuff waving around? That’s me and these are weeds that you missed.”
“I never saw them,” he said, blinking and rubbing his eyes. “They weren’t there earlier.”
From the road, someone passing in a car hollered, “You missed one over there.”
I would take them both in for eye exams, but I have a strange hunch that they will suddenly display 20/20 vision in the doctor’s office, especially if he uses an eye chart that has pictures of Ding-Dongs and different brands of chips on it instead of the ABCs. For now, we’re drilling them with charts and pictures of tomato plants, marigolds, and different varieties of weeds. That, in addition to my double-barreled “encourager” should improve their vision and efficiency in a hurry.
Just doing what I can.