Gardener

 I live at my parents’ house. My parents passed away. I took over it. This is my house now. It is a detached house which has a yard.

 When I was young, I lived in a condominium downtown by myself. At that time, I couldn’t even imagine that there was a bothersome job at a detached house. Weeding the yard.

 Weeding is not an exciting job. It is a boring and bothersome one. It is too hot in the summer. It is too cold in the winter.

 I can skip it in midwinter. But except for that, I need to weed almost every day.

 I bought coveralls for weeding. Then I try to believe: “I am a professional gardener.” When I wear the coveralls, I need to keep the yard clean for the owner. The owner is, of course, me.

 I try to imagine I am a professional gardener, but I am not. So, I listen to music through my speaker. I think a real professional gardener does not do that. It is OK. I am a fake gardener.

 One day, one of my wife’s friends came to our home. The friend took her daughter. She was an elementary school student. She saw me when I was weeding our yard. And she asked her mother: “Why is the gardener listening to music?”

 She assumed I was a professional gardener because I was wearing coveralls. Actually, I am the owner of the yard. But I pretended to be a gardener. If she knew I was the owner of the garden, I would have had to give her candy or a snack. I think the owner of a beautiful garden should give candy or a snack to children.

 It is possible to think my neighbors also assumed I was a gardener. They could think my family might be very rich because we can hire a professional gardener every day.

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Picture by TamTam