We drove by a home this weekend with the ubiquitous pink plastic flamingo in the front yard. You know the one. Alice was, understandably, quite surprised by this.
Alice: Why is the flamingo in the yard?
The Mama: I don’t know, Alice. Mom thinks they don’t belong in front yards.*
Alice: Yeah. Because yards don’t have ponds, and flamingos go in ponds. We know the truth about that. I think we know the truth about that.
We also, dear child, know the truth. Pink flamingos are soooooooo bad. Bad. b.a.d. Bad.**
* Don’t hate me if you love the pink flamingo in your front yard. I’m sure it is perfectly ironic. Or precisely kitsch. Or that it just works in your yard.
** Um, really. Don’t hate me if you love the pink flamingo in your front yard.