Green Grass
“Hi Spot,” said Fawn, early one spring morning.
“What are you up to?” asked Spot, cleaning up the kitchen.
“Nothing,” said Fawn.
“You are up to something,” said Spot. “It is too early in the morning for you to be out of bed.”
“Not really,” said Fawn.
“Yes really,” said Spot. “It was 10:00 am yesterday before you rolled out of bed and decided to face the day and right now it isn’t even quite 7:00 am.”
“Why is it that you always think I’m up to something?” asked Fawn.
“Fawn,” said Spot. “I know you.”
“I see,” said Fawn. “Well I’m going out for awhile. I’ll be back in about an hour or so.”
“Okay,” said Spot, giving Fawn a funny look.
Spot watched Fawn out the kitchen window and surprisingly enough, he wasn’t doing anything wrong. She decided to just get her housework done instead of worrying about Fawn.
“Oh good,” said Fawn, looking into the kitchen window. “It looks like she has given up on me.”
Fawn headed down the far side of the barn where he saw lots of fresh green grass growing. He picked a batch of it and put it into the basket that he had with him. He picked the grass until the basket was full.
“Fawn Hansen!” exclaimed a voice from behind him, scaring him to death.
Fawn dropped the basket on the ground and turned around to see Spot standing there watching him.
“I knew you were up to something,” said Spot. “What are you doing picking all the mint that Mrs. Hansen had planted here?”
“Mint,” said Fawn, sheepishly. “That is mint. I thought it was green grass and I was picking it for you.”
“You are going to be in so much trouble,” said Spot. “Especially when Mrs. Hansen finds out here mint is destroyed.”
Fawn felt really bad about what he had done to Mrs. Hansen’s mint. He knew that Mrs. Hansen loved mint and loved adding it to her favourite dishes.
“Oh Spot!” exclaimed Fawn. “Now what am I going to do? Mrs. Hansen is going to be so upset.”
“Upset about what?” asked Mrs. Hansen, who was just passing through the field.
“Uh,” stuttered Fawn.
“Fawn just picked all of your mint,” said Spot.
“Mint,” laughed Mrs. Hansen. “That isn’t mint, Spot. That is just crab grass and I know that Mr. Hansen will be very pleased to see that it has disappeared.”
“So then,” said Spot. “Where is your mint?”
“I planted it up closer to the house this time,” said Mrs. Hansen. “That way it will be easier for me to tend to it with my new work schedule.”
“Oh good,” said Fawn.
“Fawn,” said Spot, after Mrs. Hansen left the field. “I am sorry.”
“No,” said Fawn, who was quite shaken by the fact that he almost destroyed Mrs. Hansen’s mint. “I’m the one that is sorry.”
“Well,” said Spot. “Bring your basket of crab grass home and we’ll whip up a quick meal with it.”
“Not a chance,” said Fawn. “I don’t eat grass, any kind of grass, or have you forgotten all about that?”
“Hand it here,” said Spot, taking the basket of crab grass from Fawn. “Looks like I will have a good meal tonight.”
Moral of this Story:
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