I came home today to find a plastic pink flamingo stuck in my front yard. I have this thing about plastic pink flamingos. It is hard to provide background info on my dislike of plastic pink flamingos without sounding like I grew up in a crazy neighborhood but here goes.
One summer when I was about 12 or so some people rented the house two down from my parent's house. They had several pink flamingos in their front yard as well as two whiskey barrels with some VERY ugly plastic flowers in them. (I also have a thing against ugly plastic flowers.) Well come to find out the renters of the house were making and selling drugs out of the house. (I REALLY promise I lived in a very quiet and nice neighborhood.) Anyway the ugly stuff in the yard was there to signify that it was THE house. So houses with pink flamingos in the yard are drug houses in my mind.
Needless to say Brian thought it was HILARIOUS to put this attraction in our front yard for me today. Thanks sweetheart! You are the funniest husband alive! Tee Hee.
Bryson obviously didn't like it either. See the firm grip on it's neck!
2 comments:
Sweet. Now I know where to get some meth. I've been out of a dealer ever since the place on Roaring Springs got busted. Ahhh...the good old days.
Seriously, loyal readers, we really did grow up in the most peaceful neighborhood imaginable. With that one notable exception...
Kate--I knew for sure you would get a kick out of this. Pink flamingos have scarred me for life. Tee Hee
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