Saturday, April 7, 2007

Our Herpes Problem

Danny and I have a herpes problem. I'm pretty sure we got it from our neighbor, via our shared lawn service guy.

We first noticed our neighbor, a retired war vet who lives across the street with his wife, had it about two weeks ago when we were out walking our dog and spotted clusters of bulbous white mushrooms sprouted on his lawn near the road.

"Gross" I said, "Looks like lawn herpes."

"Yeah," Danny added, "That lawn is the neighborhood slut."

The following week we asked our lawn service guy to come mow our grass (it had gotten so long that if the cat laid down in it we could no longer see him). It turned out though that we weren't the only folks on the block who'd made a lawn booty call that day and our lawn guy informed us he had to service our neighbors first.

A few days later we noticed the little white pimples in our own backyard. It started out innocently, just a couple little polyps here and there. The sort of thing you might just ignore and hope it's razor burn, but by the end of the week it had, forgive my word choice, mushroomed out of control.

"Have you seen the yard?" Danny said, "It has Herpes. Bad."

"Oh Yes, I've seen it. And that's not just any yard herpes. That's the super-mega-giant strain of herpes. Some of those mushroom caps are bigger than dinner plates!"

"Do you think the lawn guy spread the spores?"

"Well, we can't exactly ask him to wipe his blade before he sticks it in our grass can we?"

The herpes is at least confined to our fenced in backyard where we're spared the shame of the entire neighborhood knowing that our lawn has VD. But I can't get it to go away and it nibbles at my consciousness all day long.

Yesterday I got angry and tried to kick my way through the giant mushroom village bulging next to the fence. I'm talking Disney World, Alice in Wonderland sized Fungus. I was like a fairy town Godzilla storming down gnome street.

All I accomplished was a pus covered shoe. The aftermath of my destruction is strewn across the lawn now, spawning more bunches of little white zits that I know will blossom into top hat sized toadstools.

I guess this is our punishment for being too damn lazy to mow our own damn grass. This is what we get when we invite foreign weed wackers onto our virgin vegetation. So I'll just have to live with the burgeoning bulbs that have blemished my lawn's reputation and pray that the gnomes don't take revenge while I sleep.