Monster tumbleweed, with Loki in foreground Monster tumbleweed, with Loki in foreground

When we lived in New Mexico, our first backyard was a giant sandbox. In one corner, a tumbleweed grew. And grew. “I should pull that thing,” I remarked every couple of weeks.

Eventually, it was over 6 feet across—a monstrous, thorny creature beyond my ability to dig up. Months earlier, it would have taken about ten seconds to pull it loose with one hand. Now, it was a permanent fixture of the yard (at least until a violent windstorm blew it into the next county, where it probably destroyed someone’s car).

Weeds grow in every yard. Financial weeds, emotional weeds, physical weeds. We can save ourselves a lot of trouble later by making a habit of pulling them when they’re small.