Our backyard is really nice, with lots of tall trees, flowers, and fruit trees. The one thing I wasn’t happy about when we first bought the house was the lack of a lawn. The ground is all concrete. We’ve made the best of it, though! The backyard is perfect for all of our toys with wheels, and it’s a giant canvas for sidewalk chalk. But still, I’ve always wished we had a lawn in the backyard…until recently, when the gophers came.

Our front lawn has been torn up by gophers in the last year. When I noticed the first holes, I went a little insane. Our front lawn is, obviously, the only grass we have. The kids play on it, have picnics, etc, and I didn’t want some stupid gophers ruining it. I called my dad for advice. My parents had an expansive front and back yard, and I remember my dad dealing with those a-hole critters from time to time. He suggested we have a professional come out to exterminate the gophers, so we did…four times in twelve months. The damn things keep coming back.

Yesterday, I walked out to my mailbox and I saw this:

mother. chucking. gophers.

Fresh. Gopher holes. I screamed so loud I think scared elementary schoolchildren at the end of our street. I’m pretty sure this is the gopher that lives in my lawn:

mother effing gopher

My darling daughter thinks the gophers are our pets. I’ve explained to her that they are not, in fact, the cute little dancing snuggle bugs like the gif above and are in fact, nasty, grass-ruining jerkfaces. She doesn’t care, she wants to leave them food and water.

I have reached the point where I completely understand Bill Murray’s character in Caddyshack. I just want to blow up my lawn with dynamite. And if I can’t do that, I will settle for killing the gophers with fire. Or a crossbow. Whatever, I’m not picky.

So the exterminator is coming out AGAIN this week, but I have little faith that he’ll be successful. So…time to start stockpiling dynamite.