a blight on the neighboorhood. Or at least, not the front yard. (I'm the only one who can see the back.) I mowed, weeded, pruned and spread beautiful dark compost. I looked up to see, a few houses down, my neigboors, the whole family in the yard. The adults were sitting in lawn chair, the maybe 6th grade girl intent on her task, washing the car.
"Hey," I called down the street, "It looks like you got a pretty good gig going on there."
Mary Anne laughed, "She's our slave."
"I am not," The car washer paused long enough to protest, then resumed her work.
"How do I get me one of those?"
"Well," he said, "You just push that little button and wait."
"I'll keep that in mind."
Hmmmm, what button? and where? and probably most importantly, whose?
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