Oops, that’s not my birthday baby. Here she is.
Lest there be any confusion, her name is Acadia, not Lorax. But boy oh boy does she speak for the trees. If by speaking for the trees you mean throwing down on the lawn and kicking and screaming in protest of a few defenseless branches.
Sweet Acadia. She doesn’t always manage the birthday with a smile.
Even the Mardi Gras beads didn’t make up for her extreme displeasure over my choice of birthday restraint back in her earlier fling-self-from-rooftops days.
Last weekend we moved some things around in the yard, in preparation for the big backyard birthday blow-out. We are also weighing options for a still-hypothetical garden relocation project. Maybe, just maybe the soil on the sunnier side favors the production of girl flowers?
In the heat of the preparations a large plastic climbing object was moved across the yard. A couple of overhanging branches were cut to make room for playtimes free of eye-pokes. A couple of branches. Cut a couple of inches.
The planet patrol lost all control. Her face turned red with rage. She stomped her feet. She clenched her fists. She announced that she WOULD NOT STAND HERE ONE MORE MINUTE AND WATCH US KILL THE TREES. Then my dear little Lorax flung herself on the ground and cried her heart out.
Eventually the heart-heaving sobs quieted, but she continued to mope around, forlorn, staring at the mistreated grass and communing with the flowers that somehow had the misfortune to fall under the evil reign of her own parents.
Sweet sensitive soul. In her haste to castigate us she overlooked the fact that she claims as parents two of the biggest tree hugging hippies one could find. Never mind that we committed to diligently recycle and compost and carry reusable bags. No sound arguments would make it through whilst the sap on her friends’ wounds still oozed fresh.
We appeased her by letting her plant flowers, however many and wherever she thought best. It turned out the flowers felt they should be randomly scattered strategically placed in beds all over the lawn.
And with that the Lorax was back in business. She grabbed hold of that big old shovel and set right to work restoring balance to the planet.
She set sister Kira to task too.
While the irises were busy contemplating the next stop in their total domination of the yard, I questioned Acadia about her birthday wish list. Turns out that there are, in fact, a couple of things that might make her stony facade break into smile. They are, not necessarily in this order:
- Clothes for her dolls.
- A horse.
- And a promise on behalf of her parents to leave her leafy large friends alone.