My husband broke his toe this week in a rambunctious brawl with the boys. (Sometimes I think he is worse than the kids — the instigator.)
Taking his plight into consideration, I decided to go where I never thought I would go … where I never thought I could go … and that’s making a date with the Lawn-Boy.
Now in some circumstances, when you have a real young man that takes care of the yard, this might not be such a bad situation. Unfortunately, for us, we don’t.
Yes, I mowed the entire yard — all by myself. I have never even started up a push mower in my entire life. It may have taken me twice as long, and there may have been moments when on-looking neighbors were laughing at me, but I made it through — our steep backyard and all.
What can I say? I realize now I’ve been a kept woman. I went straight from having a dad who mowed the lawn to being married, and therefore, having a husband to do the dirty work for me.
After all, moms always have plenty of their own dirty work to do.
The worst thing is that I think my husband likes me in this new role, and now wants to milk the situation for all it’s worth. He told me he figured his toe would probably not be better until November or so. Just in time for the end of the grass-cutting season.
And if only it stopped there …
When we went out to the lake, he also broke the news to me that he would not be able to make the trek back up the hill to get the truck and boat trailer. (It was too far for him to walk on that foot after all.)
He explained it would be a great time for me to practice backing the trailer down the ramp. Yes, a true golden opportunity.
Now it’s been a while since I’ve backed a horse trailer, but once upon a time I used to be good at it. And so I managed to get the trailer down the hill and into the water. I guess that’s just another skill I can check off the list.
Considering all my newfound abilities, I told my husband that he better watch out. The more jobs I can take over that he does, it really only makes my need for him more and more obsolete.
He just laughed at this. But then again, he has seen me with a drill.
You would think with me doing all his work, he might take over doing some of mine. But it hasn’t worked out that way.
He just pleads that he is in such a desperate way, with his toe and all.
All I can say is it’s a good thing women are the ones who have the children. Men couldn’t make it through the last trimester of pregnancy, much less the birth itself.
And I’ll admit, I do feel a sense of accomplishment every time I look out the window at that freshly mown lawn.
One thing is evident during my recent struggles: the grass is always greener on the other side. But every now and then, when you do actually have to step up, and step into someone else’s shoes (or chores), it’s not quite as brilliant of a green. Suddenly you have a new appreciation for them.
But I suppose that’s what love is. You give, you compromise, you step up, and sometimes, yes, you even mow the grass.
The worst thing is that I think my husband likes me in this new role, and now wants to milk the situation for all it’s worth. He told me he figured his toe would probably not be better until November or so. Just in time for the end of the grass-cutting season.
And if only it stopped there …
When we went out to the lake, he also broke the news to me that he would not be able to make the trek back up the hill to get the truck and boat trailer. (It was too far for him to walk on that foot after all.)
He explained it would be a great time for me to practice backing the trailer down the ramp. Yes, a true golden opportunity.
Now it’s been a while since I’ve backed a horse trailer, but once upon a time I used to be good at it. And so I managed to get the trailer down the hill and into the water. I guess that’s just another skill I can check off the list.
Considering all my newfound abilities, I told my husband that he better watch out. The more jobs I can take over that he does, it really only makes my need for him more and more obsolete.
He just laughed at this. But then again, he has seen me with a drill.
You would think with me doing all his work, he might take over doing some of mine. But it hasn’t worked out that way.
He just pleads that he is in such a desperate way, with his toe and all.
All I can say is it’s a good thing women are the ones who have the children. Men couldn’t make it through the last trimester of pregnancy, much less the birth itself.
And I’ll admit, I do feel a sense of accomplishment every time I look out the window at that freshly mown lawn.
One thing is evident during my recent struggles: the grass is always greener on the other side. But every now and then, when you do actually have to step up, and step into someone else’s shoes (or chores), it’s not quite as brilliant of a green. Suddenly you have a new appreciation for them.
But I suppose that’s what love is. You give, you compromise, you step up, and sometimes, yes, you even mow the grass.
