Where's Prudence Going With That Ax?

Day 36 is coming, but in the meantime I thought I'd share this little nib...

Johnny's garden is his garden. His job. I eat the stuff, but he tends it. Plants, waters, weeds, the whole shebang. I made this rule because he tends to abandon jobs in the middle and I tend to pick up the slack. He's a lot better about this then he used to be, but the garden was his idea, and I didn't want it to bit-by-bit become my job. He gets a little testy sometimes about the "I can eat it even though I didn't work on it" rule, but what else is he going to do with all the produce that comes out?

So until the garden's bursting (which it so very isn't yet, this year), I'm kind of not allowed to even poke around. He'll decide when things are ripe, and he'll pick them, wash them with the hose, and bring them proudly in the house to be displayed like sun-warmed trophies until he deems it their time.

The garden, however, is also practically right outside the dining room window. So I can surreptitiously check the harvest while I wander by.

This morning, I saw a yellow summer squash hiding under one of the big green leaves. He's been saying how his squash isn't doing as well as other people's so, when we got home just now, I thought I'd share the news.

"Hey, Honey, guess what?" I said. "You've got a squash out there!"

"No, I don't!" he cried.

"And don't you touch it!"