On my sh!t list

Last night I was out watering the garden when I noticed that my two-week-old fiberglass urn has a huge puncture/crack on one side. Let me remind you that these urns were $65 each and since the whole idea is to have a matching pair - that's $130 worth of wrecked urnage. (Because I scooped the last two urns in the store, so there is no going back for a third urn to replace it.) I was home alone at the time and narrowed the culprits down to two likely sources. Number one, it could have been Chad with his lawnmower or weed whacker. This didn't seem likely though, as the urns are on the patio, and, well, Chad has enough grass to cut just staying on the lawn - I doubt he's running around the patio to log extra mileage. The other culprit and the one who is indeed guilty is Liam, or perhaps more accurately, Liam on his ATV. Man, I knew that thing would be trouble. A few weeks ago I caught him mowing down my newly-planted hydrangeas. I told him not to do it again, yet a week or two later I found one of the main stems of the plant snapped off at the base, and I'm assuming he was too close to it again. And now, the urn. To put the icing on the cake, Chad witnessed the destruction and then rotated the urn so that I would be less likely to see the damage, afraid that I would get on Liam's case about it. So I've spent the past couple of weeks being duped. I don't keep an actual physical list of the grief that Liam has caused us so there are likely things I am forgetting about now, but I do know that in addition to having ruined a souvenir snowglobe from our first trip to Chicago, and the cell phone he dumped into the bathtub and killed, he is also responsible for the demise of my urns. *sigh grumble grumble sigh* The ironic thing is that I used to have a pair of cast iron urns, and I sold those off when we sold the old house. It isn't lost on me that if it had been a showdown between Liam and the cast iron urns, the urns would have won.