DO YOU SEE IT?
No really. LOOKATIT.
I GREW THAT.
With my own two blistered hands, I dug a hole and lifted an entire fucking tree into said hole and I don't ever want to hear that I'm a shitty gardener from another person again. Because I have the power to GROW shit.
So last week I was driving home and I noticed the sweetest, little elderly couple walking their dog in front of my house. As I began unloading groceries from my trunk the lady slowly knelt down to pick something up from the ground and placed it into the plastic bag she was toting around, presumable to clean up after her dog. Oh look, they're trying to keep the neighborhood clean. HOW SWEEEEET. I thought to myself.
Minutes later on my second or third trip to the car, I spotted the same couple walking in the opposite direction on the other side of the street. They paused at my neighbor's yard, pointed at something and then began rustling around in my neighbors orange tree and What the... FFF
WAAATT THE FUUUUCK???!!
THEY WERE STEALING MY NEIGHBORS ORANGES! That bag? NOT a poop retrieving bag, but instead a produce stealing bag! By this time it was overflowing with front yard fruit. Other people's yard fruit! The piece of "trash" the woman had picked up earlier? NOT trash, but a stray avocado that had erroneously rolled down the street from a neighboring yard. That dog? NOT a real dog, but a mere decoy to fool passerby's into believing that these monsters were a sweet innocent elderly couple.
THAT INNOCENT ELDERLY COUPLE?!
Cold, hardened, fruit thieving CRIMINALS dressed in nothing more adorable elderly sheep's clothing and protective sun hats.
I snagged a photo just in case the FBI is looking for them.
So now, I guess I'm feeling a little sketched out about the safety of my lemon. I was thinking about setting up post on the front porch with a giant sling shot and a bucket of water balloons, but the husband seems to think that might be a bit excessive and also REFUSES to agree to take the night shift for some unearthly reason. I'm open to any and all ideas.
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