Mom finally got around to planting the garden. She planted lettuce and rapini in April, but nothing else since then. So one morning I looked out the window and saw Mom outside working.
When I went out the first thing she said to me was, "Have you seen the shovel?"
"Hmm, the shovel?" I looked in the wheelbarrow and saw the baby-sized snow shovel.
"Yes, the shovel," Mom repeated.
"Oh yeah, me and Morgan were using it. It's under the bush." Morgan is my really good friend, and we were trying to make our clubhouse under the bush bigger by digging out some of the dirt.
"Morgan and I. And you mean it's been under the bush since Sunday getting rained on? It's probably rusted! And do you see this tiny snow shovel I had to use to put the compost in the garden? It's so small I practically crippled my back using it."
It is true that the snow shovel is small. It's even too small for me. But I didn't really think Mom was crippled because she had to use it. But I didn't say anything.
"Go get the shovel," Mom said.
So I went to the bush which has about a million flowers on it. And on those million flowers were about a billion bugs that looked like bees. I hate bugs. And I DOUBLE hate bugs that stink, bite, or sting. So I walked back to Mom.
"Umm, Mom, do bees like the flowers on the bush?"
"Well, it depends on the type of bee," she said. Mom is full of
"Well, can you come look? I don't want to crawl under the bush and get the shovel if I'm gonna get stung."
"I'll come look, but you are crawling under that bush and getting that shovel, or you will not get lunch until you do." Mom wasn't too happy.
While I was considering which was worse, getting stung or starving to death, she added, "And you will NOT go to the stable, either."
Will that clinched it. I was going to have to crawl under that bush and get the shovel. Mom went with me and held up the branches while I went in and got the shovel. The whole time she was telling me about all the different kinds of bugs that were on the flowers.
And I didn't get stung.
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