Well, today was probably the manliest Dad-thing I’ve managed to accomplish since the creation of my son. And coincidentally, both things involved the spreading of seed.
For months now, the lawn in our backyard has been dying a slow and agonising death, much like the Hollywood career of Lindsay Lohan. But unlike “Lilo”, there’s a pretty good chance of recovery if I’ve done my homework, properly.
After spending the day gittin’ down’n dirty with ma hoes (yo), I got all up in my backyard’s face, woz all over dat sh*t and got to the biznez of whipin’ that lawnz ass, foshizzel.
In other words, I dug up the yard, fertilised the ground, chucked a bit of topsoil around the place and sprinkled in the new lawn seed. Nothing makes a dad feel more like a real man, than using the word “topsoil” in any given context. And I wear the blister on my thumb, like a stinging badge of honor.
So, now I’m keeping my blistered fingers crossed that I’ve done enough to get the lawn bowl rolling. Now it’s up to the universe. With regular watering, hopefully, in a few weeks time, Indy will have a luxurious lawn to run his crawling fingers through, as opposed to the sparse ghastly comb over of a yard we had previously.
Can you dig it?
I know that you can.