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“You know what the problem is? The neighbour’s grass is always greener! That’s why I want to have theirs!”

So I went around and had a look.

And I found many different colours of grass. I saw green in Holland Park, Hyde Park, Lumpini Park and Wimbledon. To my great surprise, the green in Buckingham Palace was approaching brown; was that because of the recent application of manure?

No matter the state of fertilisation, nor the amount of green, I wouldn’t fancy any of the grass I saw. The only two that might have been interested in all the grass I saw could be Dolly the sheep and Gangotri the cow, had they been alive.

While also the late great Bob Marley would’ve enjoyed some of the grass I came across, my search was leading nowhere – now here! I’ve religiously watered my lawn throughout the dry season, while the neighbour’s withered away. Theirs is really brown, mine is greenish. While they go to work each working day, I have paid holidays. While they struggle to pay off their Tata, my Tesla is gleaming on the porch. While their computer still struggles with Windoze XP, I switched to Linux. And above all, while I am satisfied with everything I have in my life, they’re constantly struggling to catch up with the world’s latest fashions.

She has a latest generation mobile phone, he watches a wide high definition flat screen. Their kids go to school with their iPads, if they could ditch their uniforms they’d wear their latest brand-jeans. I wish I could give my son that!

So was my daddy right?

I don’t think so! You can’t blame my chameleon for being green on my lawn! You can’t blame a ruru for its invidiousness! It’s not my lawn’s fault it’s green! It’s mine!

As it is my fault that I would like to give my son an iPad, and a pair of nice quality jeans. But hey, my choices have been made. Stick with it. I don’t despise my neighbours for being able to spoil their roost. It’s been the hardest struggle though, and I don’t expect everyone to follow in my footsteps and suppress that emotion.

Be happy, there’s an easier way to prevent the feeling of invidiousness. One is only poor compared to the neighbours. One only desires what the neighbours have that you can’t afford yourself. The solution is simple: move to a place where the neighbours have less than yourself! The new home will be cheaper, and thus there’ll be even more left over to pamper and the kids, and yourself, and leave the neighbours’ state of well being behind.

Previously posted on My.Opera, when they still had a blogging service. I’m rerunning the Daddy Said series here; when I feel like, I’ll write a new episode. This one I wrote in 2009; the seventh of the deadly sins.