While I think the baby oak trees are an unsightly addition to an otherwise tidy lawn, Laura kind of likes them. Or, to be more accurate, Laura kind of liked them. It was time to mow, and time for the trees to go.
After the job was done, I put the mower back in the garage, walked into the house, and Laura said it was time to walk the dogs. So we did.
As we turned left on the sidewalk at the end of our driveway, we passed the oak tree in our front yard. Laura noticed that something was missing.
Laura: You mowed the baby trees!?!
Me: Sure did. There were dozens of them. They had to go.
Laura: But they were just starting out their lives and you mowed them down like a patch of weeds.
Me: Technically they were weeds.
Laura: No they were trees.
Me: You’re right, but when a tree grows were it shouldn’t, it becomes a weed.
Laura: If they’re weeds, why didn’t you spray them instead of mowing them down.
Me: And make them suffer a slow death like a common weed? Do you think I’m cruel?
Laura: If I listen really closely, think I can hear the chopped trees crying.