Dear Lawn

Okay, let's cut with the attitude, shall we? We started the season as friends. You were green and growing, and we watered and mowed you and said things like "Wow, it looks like a golf course, doesn't it?" just to make you feel good about yourself.

Then due to your primary caregiver's horrendous travel schedule, you didn't get the Scott's Phase One when you were supposed to. By the time I went to buy it, the guy at Home Depot wouldn't sell it to me. Hey, Phase One means phase one, and if you pass through the International Phase Two Dateline, don't expect to find a single bag lying around of One. But I digress.

I bought the two, and some other things I thought you might like, including a new spool of trimmer line, and brought them home. We fertilized you, because we wanted you to be happy.

But that wasn't good enough for you, was it? Now we had dead patches everywhere, and not the "burned from fertilizer" brown patches. These were odd. Grubs? Some sort of ice burn from the late snow? Who knows.

So now it's July. And you kind of look green again, which is nice, don't get me wrong. But you're green because every square inch of you is covered with crab grass. Not a blade of Kentucky Blue or Bermuda. Crab grass. And if we kill the crab grass, we'll look more like a parking lot than a putting green. So cut the crap. Or I'm going to invest in some cement and just pave you right over. THEN who will be having the last laugh? Well, the neighbors again, but you know what I mean.

Ice Cream Man

Martha Stewart

Susan from Survivor

US Mint

Mass Highway Dept

Tinky Winky

Monica Lewinsky

Jermaine Jackson

My Lawn

Yours,

The Fine Folks at the Big DumpTruck