I hate gardeners
I never really had strong feelings about gardening and gardeners in general until I had a baby. No, let me rephrase that: I never had strong feelings about gardeners until I had a baby who hates to nap and wakes up each time the freaking gardeners feel the need to trim the same hedge outside her bedroom window for the better part of an hour while I’m trying to get her down for a nap unsuccessfully because the hedge upon which they are working keeps shooting shrapnel at her window startling her awake making her cry.
As I have mentioned in the past Miss Morgan is not a big fan of nap time. However, I’m a not a big fan of Miss Morgan sans nap time. And for some reason it seems that every neighbor on our street has his or her gardener come on a different day and a different time… of course that day and time always coincides with Morgan’s attempts at naps. It seems that there is forever a gas powered mower (that’s another rant for another time) screeching outside, or the ear splitting hum of that ever pointless power tool, the leaf blower.
Ahhh, the attack of the edger. It has woken the sleeping beauty… yet again.