No More Dandelions to Everyone’s Delight

The Plan

I’ve bumbled a few things in my life. Some goofs are just that: poor judgement and goofiness. A faux pas. Some are worse than others and I’ve done several. Explaining those will take a much longer post. Maybe a book.

I was outside today, playing with dog Charlie, and thought of a faux pas from a couple of decades ago.

I was young – younger, anyway – and still in school, but with a full satchel of kids. Now, if you are male, and if you are from my family, you are likely obsessed with the lawn. One day, I had a bright idea that melded the lawn, my kids, allowances, and lifelong education into one roiling ball of efficiency.

I was outside and called the five chillins to come hear my offer.

“I need dandelions pulled,“ I said. The very idea of this chore fell on faces like smoke from a cheap cigar. “But,” I said, hand raised and showing a beneficent smile. “I will PAY YOU TEN CENTS FOR EACH FLOWER.” I mean, c’mon. These kids are all less than ten years old, and there are – what? – a couple hundred weeds in the yard? I figured I’d 1) spend five bucks, 2) be the Dad of the Year, and 3) get my weed problem under control. A nice day’s work in anyone’s agenda.

Didn’t happen that way.

When I can home from the lab the next day – I was making a whopping 3,000 bucks for the summer under a research grant – my wife came to the driveway and sheepishly ushered me into the entry where all the kids were lined up, waiting like Cheshire cats.

“What the heck is this stuff?” I asked, pointing.

“The kids said you told them they would earn ten cents for every dandelion flower they gave you? Is that right?”

“Yeah, but, like…I mean…there are like twenty shopping bags here.”

The oldest piped up. “These are all the dandelions.”

“From the yard?”

“The yard? You said you wanted dandelions. We brought you dandelions.” I felt rebellion brewing.

“I don’t think they understood the yard part,” my wife said. “This is from the entire neighborhood. We all guessed you were doing something at the lab.. Or making wine.”

“Okay,” I said. “What’s the damage?” Each kid dutifully handed me a pencilled receipt. Close to a hundred bucks.

I fingered through my wallet while making the big pronouncement. “I don’t know what you guys learned today,” I said, “but I’ve earned to be very specific and detailed in my contract negotiations. Good job for teaching your old dad.” They all smiled when I put the green in their hand.

I doled out the cash, and the kids were giddy, asking mom to take them to the store that night. I was happy, too, to see the kids so happy, and, you know what? It pretty much wiped out my dandelion problem for the year.

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