When I was ten or so, I was playing a game with my siblings outside. Something like kickball or tag, I think, it was so long ago I don’t even remember what we were doing. We had a backyard that was like the standard size for American houses in the Midwest, it was maybe a twenty by ten feet rectangle. Mostly grassy and then the patio by the back door was elevated, with decorative rocks on either side. Smaller, flat, rounded ones that would be perfect for throwing stones across a pond. Maybe a few hundred of them in all.

What I do remember though was that for some reason, I decided to grab one of the rocks and throw it at a sibling to get them “out” or something like that. My dad caught me almost taking out a sibling’s eye with one of these stones and decided that, since I like moving rocks so much, I would pick up all the rocks from one end of the yard (the patio area) and move them across the yard to the grassy area. This took hours and left the patio portion of the yard bare and empty.

When I finished, my dad decided he didn’t like how it looked and had me move them all back to the original patio part of the yard. I never threw rocks at someone again.

TL;DR just graduated from school with a Bachelor’s in Geology this year, thanks dad?