I mean its a kind of love hate relationship. On the one side I hate those ugly little spike balls that fell from the tree in the fall. They popped so many bike tires and I stepped on enough of them to have scars on my feet. I thought for sure that once it snowed they would just magically disappear and when the snow melts they would be gone and the grass would grow back again. Turns out that's not quite how it works. The snow melted and...those spike balls were still there! Persistent little buggers they are. But today I was coloring on my floor and I heard this weird sound. There on my grass was a little old man with a rake and he was raking the spikes into a little pile! Why had I never thought of using a rake? I tried everything from picking them up by hand (ended in cuts all over my palms) to sweeping them with a broom (sweeping your grass is not a very effective method for anything) I am so dumb. I should have raked up those little suckers ages ago. So there I was over joyed as I watched him rake those balls up into a little pile and I awaited the moment when he would grab a bag or something and carry away all my troubles. But this was not to be so. Next thing I know there was this riding mower (you know those lawn mowers that you can ride) and this little old man comes around the corner on his mower and rolls right over that ball pile. It was straight up cold and bloody murder. He just chopped them to peices and then spewed them out. So not only did I witness a bunch of spikes meet their doom, but now their remains are strewn across my lawn. You think it was annoying to step on a spike ball, but at least I could see what was coming. Now my front lawn is literally a game of needle in the haystack except its thousands of little needles in my lawn.
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