La Cucaracha

Every Tuesday the gardeners come, pretty precisely at 4pm. It usually is the same routine; mowing, blowing, snipping here and there, not much to highlight on. But today. Oh today. I'm sitting with the jelly bean in my lap laughing away, when we are both startled to the point of flinching. Over the already obnoxiously loud noise of a lawn mower, the gardener is belting out the lyrics to La Cucaracha. Wait a minute, let that sink in. Over the noise of the lawn mower, I could make out his every word. Every single word to La Cucaracha. Which led me to worry. Not so much of the mental state of the man behind the vocal cords, but the future state of the lawn, the flowers, the trees, and the continuous ringing of the ears of anyone in a 100 mile radius from us. Also, I would have preferred to be, at the very least, offered a choice of musical entertainment. Such as 'Ol McDonald had a farm....with an oink oink here'. Don't you agree, it's a bit more fitting, to be singing about a pig then a cockroach. Happy Cinco De Mayo folks!