The Seed Finally Did Take Root

My MIL is an amazing woman. Dedicated to her family, she always inspires me with her example of charity, faith, devotion and love.

For AH's birthday this year she included a sweet little gem of an article that she originally cut out of the Seattle Times on October 14, 1973 by Erma Bombeck and was titled "The Seed Finally Did Take Root." (Originally published in 1971 under the title "The Green, Green Grass of Home") This humorous story brought several chuckles from me as I read it and realized how befitting it was for her third child (my husband).

Maybe you have one of these types in your family or perhaps you are married to one like I am; either way enjoy.

The seed finally did take root

When Mike was 3 he wanted a sandbox and his father said, “There goes the yard. We’ll have kids over here day and night and they’ll throw sand into the flower beds and cats will make a mess in it and it’ll kill the grass for sure.”

And Mike’s mother said, “It’ll come back.”

When Mike was 5, he wanted a jungle gym set with swings that would take his breath away and bars to take him to the summit and his father said, “Good grief, I’ve seen those things in back yards and do you know what they look like? Mud holes in a pasture. Kids digging their gym shoes into the ground. It’ll kill the grass.”

And Mike’s mother said, “It’ll come back.”

BETWEEN BREATHES when Daddy was blowing up the plastic swimming pool he warned, “You know that they’re going to do to this place? They’re going to condemn it and use it for a missile site. I hope you know what you’re doing. They’ll track water everywhere and you’ll have a million water fights and you won’t be able to take out the garbage without stepping in mud up to your neck and when we take this down we’ll have the only brown lawn on the block.”

“It’ll come back,” smiled Mike’s mother.

When mike was 12, he volunteered his yard for a camp out.

As they hoisted the tents and drove in the spikes his father stood at the window and observed. “Why don’t I just put the grass seed out in cereal bowls for the birds and save myself the trouble of spreading it around. You know for a fact that those tents and all those big feet are going to trample down every single blade of grass, don’t you? Don’t bother to answer," he said. "I know what you're going to say, “It'll come back?”

THE BASKETBALL hoop on the side of the garage attracted more crowds than the Winter Olympics. And a small patch of lawn that started out. With a barren spot the size of a garbage-can lid soon grew to encompass the entire side yard.

Just when it looked like the new seed might take root, the winter came and the sled runners beat it into ridges and Mike's father shook his head and said, "I never asked for much in this life. . . only a patch of grass.

And his wife smiled and said, "It'll come back."

The lawn this year was beautiful. It was green and alive and rolled out like a sponge carpet along the drive where gym shoes had trod . . . along the garage where bicycles used to fall . . . and around the flower beds where little boys used to dig with iced tea spoons.

But Mike’s father never saw it. He anxiously looked beyond the yard and asked with a catch in his voice, "He will come back, won't he?"