Well, once again it’s that time of year when I seriously consider calling a medical professional about Danny. Last week, with zeal in his eyes he announced it was time to trim the front rose hedge. “Fine” I said, “just don’t gnash your teeth again this year while doing it, it gives the neighbors the creeps”.
I don’t really know what to make of Danny’s trimming habits. Is it a latent bonding fetish or just improper potty training? One can only guess. If it weren’t for the fact the results are so rewarding, I would be far more willing to intervene.
First, he removes all he deems unworthy to be rose canes while he simultaneously points out the number of Song Sparrow nests are hidden among the thorns. Finally he generally ends with an exclamation of some sort as to how big the roses have gotten.
Then the bondage begins, using wire salvaged from old tomato cages, he carefully bends and cajoles the canes to his will, using the wire to make sure they stay in place. Generally this phase is when the teeth gnashing really gets going. Luckily as he gets older he’s also much more prone to grunt and groan when he works, so it’s harder to hear the teeth gnashing these days.
Still in general I’m at a lost to explain the look of utter satisfaction in his eyes. All I can say is that this sort of behavior was never a part of our dating days.