No, we shouldn’t really make junior high kids smoke

The other day I went to visit my parents’ home to say hello and pick up some mail that fails to migrate with me to new residences.

As I parked and walked up to the door, I went across their lawn and first thought they’d started laying down straw before I realized it was grass, or used to be.

“Wow,” I said when I got inside. “You’re sure taking this water-restriction thing serious, aren’t you?”

My dad said, “What water restrictions?”

(He didn’t really.)

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