My life has since changed.
Remember The Big Injury of Vacay '11?
I'm not gonna lie. I was a wee bit excited about this new opportunity. Moreso than the husb.
"Hey, I'm gonna go mow the grass!!!" I say in all my giddiness.
"Please no, I'll do it. I'll figure out how. Seriously. You can't. I'll be the loser man who makes his wife mow the lawn. You CAN'T do this."
"Whatever. I'm a 21st century kinda gal. I'll take care of it while you stay inside and do what I always do. Go bake a pie."
"When have you ever baked a pie?"
"Nonsense Man. Go do your job and I'll do mine."
And so, with my two little boys in tow, I got out all my supplies as well as their Fisher Price mowers and edgers. And then I just stared at the lawn mower.
"Um, buddy, how do I do this?"
The 4 year old manned up, got his gloves on, showed me what button to press, what bar to hold and what string to pull. VOILA!! We have lift off.
The only issue was this:
|Feels Like: 105°|
I picked a swell time for my first mowing experience. I began hallucinating about midway through the front yard and imagining myself passing out, dropping to the ground and wondering which neighbor would come to my rescue, if any.
Thankfully I made it through unhindered, save the 42 pounds I lost in sweat.
And I'd say it's a right nice job.
Now where's my pie?????