Where's the Wreath? Bob's Old House Edition

See the old guy sitting on the couch next to a very young Captain Chaos? That’s Bob. He’s my neighbor.

Bob lives in this house.

 He painted it a really ugly color. He painted it while a neighbor he isn’t too fond of was on vacation. He hoped that the guy wouldn’t recognize the neighborhood when he returned from vacation and would drive on by without stopping.

I thought he was looking for a color that would attract the attention of space aliens.

Bob has a beautiful garden. There is something blooming in his garden from early spring until late fall. You want to know his secret? Good soil. He composts. He adds gypsum to break up the clay. And manure. Nobody spreads manure like Bob. I tell him often. He tells me I’m a son of…he questions the legitimacy of my birth

But he sure does have a beautiful garden!

So, where's the wreath?

Capitalism and Freedom

Yesterday morning there was a knock on the front door. I opened it to find Bob, my 74-year-old neighbor, master gardener, retired army war veteran, and neighborhood crotchety old man, standing on the front stoop. I like Bob. He wanted to know if General Mayhem was available to mow his lawn. Bob cannot mow anymore, and he likes to help the General earn money for space camp. I asked the General if he’d rather complete his math or go mow. The sonic boom left in his wake as he flew out the front door was my only reply. He returned an hour later with $45 in his pocket. Bob over pays.

Last night the Boss asked General Mayhem if he was enjoying homeschooling.

“Yeah,” he replied.

“What is the best part?” she inquired.

“Sleeping in.”

He paused for a moment.

“I love earning $45. While other kids are in math class, I’m out earning money. They are counting pretend money while I’m counting real money!”

He still had plenty of time to complete his assignments.