The Great Plan

The Great Plan

“Where’s Charlie?” Frank asked, coming up from his cellar workshop.

“I sent him out to pull weeds,” Thelma answered.

“Isn’t that a little dangerous? He’s too young to know the difference between weeds and good plants.”

“I read this article in one of those mother’s magazines Sandra always has. They had a great plan for that.

“You read a parent’s magazine?”

“It was the day I forgot my phone and I couldn’t figure out how to turn on their TV... Anyway, they said to pick out one weed that’s easy to identify and tell the child to pull out all the weeds that look like that one! I worked with him for a while and he seems to have gotten it.”

“What weed did you give him?”

“Crabgrass! If he pulls the crabgrass out of the front gardens that would be wonderful! And if he misses some roots, well, they’ll grow back, and I’ll pull them. Or, maybe give Charlie another lesson!”

“Humm, sounds good,” Frank said, pulling food out of the fridge.

Thelma walked toward the window to check. “I mean how bad can it go? If he pulls a couple perennials by mistake, I can probably just replant them.” She looked out, and gasped.

“What?” Frank said.

“It’s worse than I thought,” Thelma said, quietly.

“You just said you could replant your perennials if he pulled any...” Frank said, walking over.

Looking out, he tried not to laugh. There was Charlie kneeling next to a large brown area as he happily pulled up more of the front lawn. “Guess crabgrass and front lawn grass look alike to a five-year-old...” he said finally.

The look on Thelma’s face told him she was not ready to see the funny side quite yet. Frank quietly slipped back down cellar.