At approximately 6:05 PM, I did something that I hope to not do again until early 2008: mow the stupid lawn.
I would estimate that there are only two people on Earth that hate mowing the lawn more than I do: Kal Veinshweigher in Luxembourg and some guy in Wisconsin who hasn’t slept in 4 months.
I HATE mowing the lawn.
What’s funny is that the lawn didn’t really need a trim, at least not in my estimation. I’ve come to realize that my wife lives in a parallel universe where the grass is 6 inches longer than it is in my universe.. She says the glass is half empty, and I forgot that I left the glass on the book shelf the night before.
I don’t like mowing the lawn, but I hate my wife being forced to mow it even worse. I realize that I’m a procrastinator, so I understand that Shari gets upset when I don’t mow the lawn promptly. When she gets upset, she gets antsy and impatient, so she takes it upon herself to mow the lawn before the neighbors sneer and throw tomatoes into our backyard.
So I drive up to the sight of her fighting our piece of junk lawnmower, desperately trying to get it done properly. This doesn’t happen every single time, but it has happened…quite a few times. That’s enough to make a guy feel really guilty (and not like much of a “man”). She actually does a better job than I do, but she has enough on her plate, and I don’t want to add to it by using my powers of procrastination to force her behind the mower.
Guilt has forced me to mow the lawn when I don’t really have the time, and also at the most inopportune times. Have you ever tried mowing the lawn 45 minutes after sundown? It’s not easy. It makes for some interesting revelations the next morning.
So HOPEFULLY this was the last guilt trip I put myself through for the next several months. Cold weather, please hang out and stay a while. Don’t leave us. I can’t take the shame.