DIY Heavan

We live in an older neighbourhood, and as a result, the people around us are always remodelling their houses. I always liked watching the construction workers busily tearing down walls and adding new extensions to the houses around us. I was fascinated with the whole process; that is, until our next door neighbour decided to hire a custom builder to demolish his brick shed and build a new one.

I think most builders have a waste disposal plan in place before they start a project. This builder seemed to think our back garden was an ideal waste disposal site. We came home one afternoon to find bricks and mortar piled three feet high, and still more bricks and mortar strewn all around the giant heap. My mother was livid. She kept looking out the window and glaring angrily around the house, looking for a target for her wrath.

Perhaps someone should have warned my father, because as soon as he walked in the door she was hissing at him. "Go over to their house and tell them to move their bricks out of our garden right this instant! And as for the mortar all over, I don't know what we're going to do about that. "

My father hates confrontations. I could see him wincing internally as he thought about it. He clenched his fists as he visibly steeled himself for the battle ahead. Just then, there was a knock at the front door.

Our neighbour stood there, sheepishly hanging his head. "I know I should have asked first, but the builder wants to reuse those bricks for the foundation of the new shed, and there just wasn't any place to put them in my garden..." He trailed off as he caught sight of my mother's face. "I didn't think you would mind. The truck he was using for waste disposal is broken down anyway, and he promised he would restore it to its original condition... I'm sorry..."

My father frowned, and started to speak. But my mother cut him off before he managed to get out even one word. "Of course it's all right. We weren't using that part of the garden anyway. You can use it as long as you like."

After he left, my father and I looked at each other in silence for a long time. Finally, he shrugged. "Women," he said. I just nodded.

There really was nothing else to say.