My husband asked for a bug zapper for Father's Day. A bug zapper.
Don't get me wrong, he deserves the zapper, he is a fantastic father. BUT. The zzzt, zzzt, zzzt slaughter on our patio all night long somehow doesn't seem very zen-like.
The neon zapper only attracts more bugs. Right? Right. If I'm wrong, let me know.
Instead, he got a golf certificate, a
nother day of extreme pampering and tickets to Breakfast on The Farm (a rather big event that is what it is). For 2 hours we got lost exploring another world together enjoying the proverbial cowbell.
Farming looks so quaint until you actually stop and smell it. Another childhood fantasy career shattered.