Sticker Weeds

Over the last 5 months I have been living in a house with a gravel drive-way. The drive-way is fine, but the sticker weeds that seem to grow every few inches are not. I really wouldn't mind them if they didn't get stuck in my shoes, and get deposited every few feet into my front yard.

About a month ago I had a friend over who I had not seen in a while. I was given the task of taking out the garbage after dinner. I don't normally wear shoes inside of the house, so I decided that going barefoot wouldn't be a bad idea. I got to the dumpster (Which I found out later is surrounded by about six feet of sticker weeds) without a single problem. When it was time for the return journey, my first step was met with a sharp stab to my foot, me yelping, and then almost falling over directly into an entire patch of them. My friend helped steady me, and as I stood there pondering my predicament, she figured it would be best if I were to hitch a ride on her back for the return trip to the house. Needless to say I felt very much unmanned by these tiny pests. This is just ONE of the many situations in which sticker weeds have been a literal thorn in my side.

With the weather changing, I have been making more and more trips in and out of the house throughout the day. I noticed a parallel with the amount of outside trips I have been taking, and the increased frequency of surprise sticker weed attacks. This week alone, I have been stabbed by nearly ten. TEN!!! The last one was during lunch today at work. My wife came to visit me, and while I was eating a grapefruit, I noticed that my hands had gotten quite messy. I reached in the back for a towel that I had used the week previous to lay down and change a flat tire with (So I could avoid sticker weeds). As I cleaned my hands off, the tip of my index finger was stuck with.. you guessed it... a sticker weed.

As a young child, many of my memories are of stepping on sticker weeds, and attempting to gain sympathy from my mother by hobbling to the house with the blasted thing still attached to my foot. Now that I am older, any sympathy I would have been given as a child has been replaced by coquettish pouts from my wife, quickly followed by bouts of laughter (for some reason, she seems immune to sticker weeds).

Thus ends my rant on sticker weeds.

Stay tuned for next time, and perhaps I will explain why annoying nasty neighbors leaving lights on at night make me nervous about my my much needed naked hot tub runs.

Then again, I have already said too much about that.