Rocks For Sale

Yesterday Willow barked.  At the door were four little girls, probably ranging from ages 6 to 8.  I think two of them lived across the street.

They had a box of rocks about the size of their fists.  They told me they were raising money for charity and had rocks for sale.

The lead spokeskid said today I could have two rocks for the price of one.

I think I must look like I just fell off the turnip truck.

I did the brave thing: I told them they would have to talk to my wife who was not at home then.

If two of them live across the street, which I think they do, I remembered their late grandfather, who died before they were born, got into trouble when he got caught connecting to what would be COMCAST on the telephone pole.  And another time the police surrounded their house.

The apples, I mean rocks,  don't fall far from their tree.

PS - The next day they came again and asked for my wife.
They gave her their rocks for sale sale pitch.  
Anna asked them where was the money going and they said they were going to buy themselves "cheeseburgers for poor people."