Little Boy Jimmy tended the soil in Mom and Dad's front yard. They'd given him the job of preparing the beds surrounding the walkway from the driveway to the front steps. Jimmy evened out the soil and flattened the dirt. He knew he was supposed to call Dad when he'd gotten rid of all the weeds, cleaned out the beds, and evened everything out. Would be really nice, Jimmy thought, to have pachysandra around the walkway in the front yard. Just like the Donovans had, he thought, it made the house look really classy and elegant. A lot better than that untended green ivy that grew up the side of the house. Ugly, ugly stuff.
Jimmy thought pachysandra was spelled pack-a-Sandra. He hoped so, because his favorite little girl in elementary school was Sandra Del Prado. He'd love to get a pack of her, any time. He thought about Sandra's coffee hair, her brown skin, so different from his own pasty white red-headed freckled spastikness. Sandra liked him, too, but only to play pattycakes. Just like Bugs Bunny and Elmer Fudd, except without the funny punchline at the end.
Where was Daddy? He'd been done ten, fifteen minutes, so he decided to plant the pachysandra himself. One at a time. He put one in the ground. Then two. Before he knew it, twenty-five. And then a hundred were planted. Barely enough to cover a quarter of the bed he'd created for Mom and Dad. They would need more. They'd bought four hundred and if this is what a hundred of them covered, they'd need at least a thousand. Oh, and his lower back hurt from all the work! But he liked it, Little Boy Jimmy did.
Mom came outside and saw what he'd done. "Why, Jimmy! You started planting the pachysandra?" Her eyes rushed together and her pointy glasses jumped off her face. "But you planted them too close! Right on top of each other! Goodness gracious, we're going to have to dig them all up and started over again! Why can't you do anything right, Jimmy? Go to your room!"
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