I shoveled three tons of kid-packed topsoil today.
Finally, the Clearwater parking lot is no longer buried under a giant mound of earth. As I was exhaustedly hefting the last few barrows of dirt, a small girl in a pretty white pinafore came up and hollered at me, face all squinched up to project the loudest condemnation possible: ‘You’re the meanest person in the whole world!’
She no happy at the loss of the mountain they’d been playing on all year. I told her that was pretty rough considering I was the one who brought them all that joyous dirt in the first place.
Perhaps the wisdom of this sunk in(or more likely, her attention span is no larger than she is), because she was soon happily questioning me about the plants I’m going to plant.
Matt the bus driver unwittingly saved my battered self esteem by strolling by not long after and comparing me to Milarepa. Not to mention offering to sweep the parking lot the next day, ‘cuz I’d already ‘done the work of twelve men’.
Ah, appreciation. Does wonders for the weary.
Now if the little heathens would just stay off the nice, freshly fluffed soil ’til I get a chance to plant it…