So I’m going public because the shock has worn off and if you go public with your plans for MURDER it may actually become part of your “reasonable insanity” defense.
That or when I’m digging a hole for a body, er, TREE, we might as well plant other things.
I came home a few nights ago to find that my darling husband (the artist formerly known as Mr. Wonderful) had decided ON A WHIM to remove all the trees from the front of our home three weeks before our son’s graduation party. (To be fair two were in bad shape but one could have stayed and timing is everything).
First I was in shock. Mr. Wonderful was not home at the time. I pulled up the driveway and actually stopped midway.
What was this? Someone had taken our trees?
An entire corner of our home was exposed that hadn’t been seen from that angle in decades. To say I was speechless was an understatement.
BoyWonder met me on the porch saying “don’t yell at me.” GirlWonder, having escaped to work, texted me for my reaction. She admitted she was upset because as she said to her father, “you’re going to make mom so mad and then go to work and leave us here to face her?”
Once the shock wore off I began plotting. I was ranting and raving and spouting fire and brimstone while doing a quick Google search on “how to dispose of a human corpse” as you do.
I’m not going to lie. I have always loved him but I fully contend that if you have not been mad enough to hear your own pulse at least once, you may not really be married. Pretty sure “at least he tried” should be in the marriage vows.
Now those who know me or even read me in passing know I am not outdoorsy. I am indoorsy. My favorite plants are in other people’s yards or plastic.
I went immediately to social media to ask for help in planting a quick fix — and my alibi.
I wasn’t sure if we would still be able to host the grad party at home, but I was certain people would want to drop by after his funeral.
In sharing the tale of the Great Tree Massacre of 2016, I found that the reactions broke down almost across gender lines.
I said “he’s a good man but he gets bored and gets ideas.”
Men said “Ideas are awesome!”
Women said: “A jury of your peers (women) would not convict.”
Mr. Wonderful said “I have a plan to fix it. I’m going to plant another tree.” I do not have 80 years to grow a new tree!
I often say of an inconvenience or upset that “this is not a hill I’m willing to die on.”
Our front yard, however, became the literal hill I was willing to die on.
I do not like to be in charge of planning, purchasing or planting shrubs or flowers of any kind.
I do not deadhead, fertilize or weed.
I refuse to give plants any attention.
I am the person who thinks the Brady Bunch AstroTurf lawn looked pretty good.
Usually, at this point, savvy nursery employees suggest plastic plants and gravel.
On that note, does anyone have thoughts on fake ficus plants as exterior landscaping? Or better yet, a sitter for my man. Just someone to watch over him (and our landscaping).
Perhaps hide his tools? He’s a hard worker but he gets bored and gets ideas. . .
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