Male turf love is rampant. Walk down your street and you'll likely encounter a weed-free warrior who edges his lawn with a ruby laser and regards thatch as a serious character flaw. But you may be surprised to learn how often this genetic disorder seduces other family members into codependent relationships. Here are a few of their shocking stories.

It's a typical day in Greenville, South Carolina. Andy and Carolyn Anderson are down on their knees. Why? Because a loathsome weed has dared to invade Andy's nearly perfect 'Emerald' Zoysia lawn. While Andy uses needle-nose pliers to hold the offender upright, Carolyn obligingly paints its leaves with a cotton swab dipped in Roundup.

Andy's lawn doesn't just look like a putting green--it really is one. His John Deere greens mower cuts as low as 3/16 inch, so Carolyn, an avid golfer, can practice putting. Of course, she's not permitted to dig a hole for the cup. How protective of his grass is he? A few years ago, he suffered a heart attack at home. As paramedics wheeled him on a gurney toward a waiting ambulance, they foolishly eschewed the front walk and crossed his sacred lawn. "They put ugly ruts in my freshly mown grass," Andy recalls indignantly. "I gave 'em hell."