Weeds

Weeds. Lots of weeds have flowers and look very pretty. How many of us gave dandelions to a our mothers when we were growing up? When did the weed become bad? Was it when our mothers told us to stop playing with weeds, and that they really weren't flowers? Or is it when someone unrelated dismisses a field filled with tall, strong flowers with their petals pointed to the sun and they say, "Those are just weeds."
I am the worst suburban gardener. I let weeds grow until I know its a weed and then I reluctantly chop it down. Last week I cut a dandelion that was almost three feet high! Amazing! But, it was in my front lawn and had begun to peek through the maiden grass (which is not a weed).
Weeds are amazing. They grow quickly and are determined to survive. I can pull them by hand, only to find them crop up in another place in the yard. I usually cut to bring them down to a manageable height, but on occasion I will use a herbicide such as Weed-B-Gone. I use the same thought in the backyard as the front, which is I don't cut, chop, or pull until I have determined that it is a weed or I just don't like it.
Can weeds be a metaphor for life?