Oh the horror. On my way to driving my dog to the park, I saw a giant stuffed headless dirt person. This creature was almost in the road, leaning against a white fence, standing about four feet tall and even without a head. It had on a size 40 million blue denim shirt and painter’s overalls. Someone had gouged large holes everywhere, and out of each hole was a plant. The plants dotting this dirt person looked like green hairs growing out of giant brown warts.
My description does not do it justice. Why do people make a mockery of their own homes by putting hideous things out front for everyone to see? You know what I’m talking about. Toilets with plants lunging out of the bowl like a bidet spurting green water. What is the conversation like in that house?
“Honey, what do you want me to do with this old toilet now that we got the new one?”
“Well, it’s perfectly good. I hate to just throw it away. I know! Let’s put it in our front yard!”
“Now that’s the best idea you’ve had all day.”
“Why thank you, sweetheart. I think it would look really purty to put a fern in the bowl.”
“Oh, I like how you think. But let’s do it one better. Let’s put some flowers in there too.”
“Why, aren’t you just the most clever thing? That’s why I married you. Let’s put it right up by the road so everyone driving by can enjoy it too.”
“Well, that right there is why I married you. You’re always trying to make other people happy. I love you Sally Bob.”
“I love you too Delbert Freddy.”
And that’s how the toilet ends up at the front yard, decked out with plants and flowers stemming from every orifice, and usually surrounded by an impressive collection of nearly every weed known in these parts.
I can understand the toilet. But how can anyone come up with making a giant headless dirt man?
“Honey, since you’re down to 250 lbs., we ought to get rid of your fat clothes.”
“Aw, shucks. I hate to give ‘em up, especially that there denim shirt and overalls.”
“Those old things? They was full of holes. I’m glad to be shed of them.”
“Well, can I hang on to jest those ones to remind me of what I used to look like before I slimmed down?”
“Sweetheart, I’d just as soon get them out of the house. I don’t want you tempted to gain all that weight back. You know what the doctor said.”
“Yeah, I know. Wait, I got an idear. How bout we fill them things up with dirt and lean ‘em up against the fence out front? We could tear them holes a little bigger and plant some plants in there.”
“Well my goodness, how you DO come up with the best ideas. I think that would be just the ticket! And when people drive by, they’ll see how clever you are and it will brighten up their day.”
“I’ll get the shovel!”
“Wait for me!”
Now I’m starting to get a little jealous of these people. Here I tromp, ill-tempered, from store to store to get the perfect hanging baskets or flower pots, and these happy guys don’t have a clue that they should be embarrassed to death. This is exactly what they mean when they say, “ignorance is bliss.”