Warning: It is permissible to cross a picket line if the picketer is your child.

Wesley is now 10 years old. Dave and I have been waiting for this moment for 11 years--ever since we found out we had a boy cooking in my belly. And what a sweet moment it was when Wesley ventured out and started pushing the lawn mower by himself.

Oh the joy! Oh the pride! Oh the sweet smell of freshly cut grass and weeds on a hot summer day in Georgia. Made especially nicer when you were not the mower!



It took one mowing of our front yard before Wesley demanded payment. Dave, as upper management in charge of exterior landscaping, offered $15 in a moment of weakness.

It took three mowings before Wesley went on strike--asking for $20 per job. Since I am chief financial officer, threw back another number--$12 per job but I would allow frequent water breaks under this new contract.

And then the National Organization of Chore Unionization started. Darn schools! They had teach him to add. In an unprecedented move toward sibling cooperation, Regan threw herself and all her 137 stuffed animals (yes you read that right 137 stuffed animals and I've picked all of them up at one time or another). Regan wanted compensation for being cute and giving good hugs.

I went back to Wesley at $15 per job partly because of Dave's impressive resistance to mowing anymore. Wesley agreed only because I started charging for meals, rent and washing. He quickly ran into the red and started suffering from Milky Way withdrawal. Regan was temporarily satisfied with a grilled cheese sandwich.

However, he said he will be back later in the year to start contract talks. Regan is now preparing her 137 minions how to picket.

Thank you Norma Rae.