As nine-year-old Travis entered his piano teacher's door six years ago he jealously told her,
"You're so lucky. You can have a dirt clod war!"
His teacher, Susan, and I stood confused for a moment until we realized that he had admired her freshly aerated front lawn as he approached the door. We chuckled quietly to ourselves as we caught a glimpse of the world through childlike eyes again.
Lawn aeration was foreign business to me when I moved to Utah. I initially thought the plugs of dirt were the result of an over-active dog doing its "business."
I liked Travis' interpretation better. Why hadn't I seen them as potential ammunition for one amazing dirt clod war?