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Funny broken furnitures trash pile

Filed Under , on September 29th, 2018

Backyard of Doom

By Seth Kabala

The kids left detritus lying all over the yard during a recent play session. When I went out later to bring the garbage cans up from the curb, it was like Indiana Jones making his way through the Temple of Doom, stumbling over a rubber rain boot, high stepping over the top of an old bar-stool, knowing that at any moment, I could misstep and plunge down a crevasse. I felt like an American Gladiator, leaping over a bamboo pole lain across the sidewalk, side-stepping not one but two branches also crossing the path and blocking my forward progress, threatening to send me down into spandex shame.

To make matters worse, the path was nearly dark, so the difference between remaining upright and falling depended entirely on my visual purple supply and my ability to quickly discern shape outlines. On the other hand, I did up my sensory perception. But at the risk of falling victim to booby traps and foam pad pugnaciousness? Not worth it. The kids need to clean up the damn yard.

It might seem like I’m making a big deal out of nothing, but this is life and death, people. It’s not like I have a lot of exit strategies for altering my walking course when obstacles present. Going out the back door and turning right, I have the house on one side and the yard on the other. The house, at this time of year, is covered with spiders. Are they venomous? That does not matter. Spiders are disgusting and creepy and have no place in my backyard except to be the inhalation recipients of industrial strength arachnid spray. I’m behind on my extermination efforts. Right now, one must walk straight.

I can think of one possible exception: if the spiders are radioactive and would give me the skills of Peter Parker, aka, Spiderman, I’d be willing to let any number of them bite me. But they’re not radioactive, are they? Or if they are, it’s probably a minority, which means I’d have to endure all manner of horrors when receiving the bites from non-radioactive spiders. With each spider bite, it would be like Tom Cruise in Edge of Tomorrow. Fun to watch, in the same way Faces of Death was fun to watch. (Whoa. Flashback. Was that fun? I might be broken. Might need therapy.) Awful to experience.

On the other side is our backyard/gravel pit. I don’t think it’s actually a gravel pit. We have some sort of excavation operation going on about a mile from our house, and as far as I know, said operation didn’t once exist on our property, but how else do you explain the rocks that continue to rise to the surface of the ground like Jason from Friday the 13th, again and again, no matter how many times you throw them in the corner?

I quit maintaining the yard with a lawn mower exactly one mowing session after we moved in. The mower was sucking up projectiles and hurling them at the fence hard enough to splinter wood, so imagine what that would have done to my skull or someone else’s skull. Why is this relevant? Because whether the rocks are coming at you at 100 MPH from  a lawnmower, or you’re stumbling on them, or you’re pitching off the back patio into the gravel pit head first, trying to get out the way of kids’ play detritus, meeting rocks at speed is not a good time.

I think I’ll make up a poster and stick it on the fridge that shows Goliath the Philistine with a rock sinking into one side of his head and a maybe-radioactive-maybe-not-radioactive spider biting the other side. Below this, I’ll write: “Want this to be you? Clean up the yard!”

Violence, Bible lesson, and Marvel Universe education all in one.

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Seth Kabala

About: Seth Kabala
Seth is an entrepreneur, writer, musician, family man, and juggler of balls--big ones. He lives with his wife and three children in Portland, OR.

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