A mop of hair in serious need of a cut (who has time for THAT?), pokes out the top of the puddle of bedcovers emblazoned with a favourite cartoon character and fuzzy winter sheets splashed with happy colours to chase away the monsters and miscellaneous blue mood inducing things. A parade of freckles march across the snub nose and the cheeks of their owner. Eyelids flickering, wakefulness not far away.
A beam of watery light shines through the not quite shut blackout curtains featuring rocket ships and all things space, hibernating dust motes encouraged to play.
Organised chaos reigns within this childish realm. A feather, a straw, a sea-worn bite of driftwood – memories of a seaside holiday lay amongst other treasures too precious to part with lay higgledy-piggledy on whatever space is bare. Between papers, publications, all things spare, well-loved toys and plenty of other things who clearly already have one tatty foot firmly in the bin.
Clearly taking the place of pride, all other things rudely shoved aside, a summery outfit for a carefully planned day ahead. A day of fun and games in the backyard with other like-minded neighbourhood friends.
With nary a nod between sleep and wake, the eyes fly open in anticipation of the day. Covers flung off, flailing arms like windmills – pyjamas fly off, summery outfit thrown on.
Breakfast choked down with a large slosh of juice out to the backyard grabbing essential must-have items to play here and there on the way.
A forlorn bunch soon gathers out there on the deck surveying the impromptu pool dead centre of the backyard courtesy of ongoing wintery precipitation. Muddy grass surrounding the watery bullseye of despair. No games, no fun, not here there or anywhere. An arctic breeze whirls around making bare arms and legs motley with crops of chilly pimples to boot.
‘Well I guess that’s it then,’ said one small child to the other ‘Yup,’ was the answer in reply.
‘Oi, that cannot be right,’ the voice belonging to the loudest motor mouth of all, ‘Didn’t YOUR parents have that stuff called artificial grass installed?’
Unusual silence spreads amongst the crew of small fry as they collectively pondered this point.
They had all seen the Eco-Lawn van turn up right next door, with its crew of experienced installers providing the best service, a can-do attitude and a cheerful smile to boot.
Traversing the path and to the fence, they all scrambled to find a possie to perch upon whilst surveying the magnificent sight that lay beyond.
Oodles and oodles of luscious grass, clearly built to last. No mud, no puddles no barriers to play oh why oh why wasn’t this option open to them today?
The French doors were flung open from the house to the lawn a gaggle of adults vomited forth from within. Clearly, a garden party will clearly be soon well under way taking advantage of the artificial summery of a day. Adults ready to frolic, more than ready to play.
‘That’s why,’ whispered the resident of the illustrious lawns ‘If there is so much as a hint of good weather prescribed we never get a look in,’ She sighed. ‘If it’s not the book club, there is bound to be bowls or a BBQ to boot or maybe petanque whilst enjoying glasses of fancy booze it’s always something that they choose, we kids never get a look in so we lose’
A collective of faces look from one yard to the next it is abundantly clear which one is the best.
A voice rang out from the smallest of all ‘Why don’t YOUR parents give Eco-Lawn a call?’
‘Not a bad idea,’ he cries as he rushes inside.
All play abandoned for the day, the kid’s all disperse artificial lawn clearly on their minds, the answer for a perennial yard of fun.
Do your kids deserve a section immune to all things mucky and wet? Does your family deserve the Eco-Lawn touch?
