My Mom and Rocks

I'm off to visit my mom. I've been informed that I will be helping in the yard with some sort of job. This could be anything. Mom gets all sorts of ideas when it comes to gardening. One summer, when I was in high school, mom kicked my sisters and I off the couch. We were probably watching a movie we had already seen a gazillion times, the Disney channel, or music videos we had on VHS tapes because our town didn't have MTV. She handed us a bucket and sent us to the side yard, which was full of lava rock. We started pulling the orangey red rocks out of the ground. I remember hoping no cute boys would drive by while I was hauling another bucket of rocks to the other side of the house. At the end of the day, I stared out the picture window at that patch of rocky dirt, thinking we had made a dent. But NO! The next day, more rocks appeared. Those rocks just kept coming up out of the ground. To my teenage mind, picking up those rocks was a way un-cool, seemingly endless job. Even now, I do not care to do it again! I bet my sisters would agree. Well, whatever job mom has planned for me this weekend, I hope it doesn't involve picking up rocks. Ugh. It probably is! She did say she would feed me though. I do enjoy my mom's cooking a great deal. And I'm so happy to have the time to visit her, even if she does make me pick up rocks once in awhile.