Sam, sam, the yard mowing man...he gleefully came in and told me, "You shouldn't have planted all those banana trees by the fence.  I accidentally got three of them with the weed whacker."

     Hmmm, what banana plants?  I don't HAVE any in that vicinity.  Sam whistled a happy tune.  He has always hated my plants in his twisted way.  He loves a naked, austere yard.  I believe that if we weren't married, he'd dump a load of rock over the whole thing so as not to mow.
     Last year, when our son had a hairline fracture in his spine, Sam wailed, "What use is it having a kid if he can't mow?"
     Mowing is just the bane of his existence.  Although this week, this strenuous summer activity  made him really happy, because he sweated off four pounds in one day of intense lawn mowing.  Plus he managed to clip off my so-called banana plants.
     Peeking through the window, I saw that, in fact, he had just lobbed off a couple of stalks of cannas.  If you're unaquainted with these tall flowers, they grow like weeds.  They're almost like starfish--hack off an arm, two grow in their place.  So revenge is mine--the mad cannas will grow like rampant leg hair and fill up the yard.