The Lawn Mower

If you passed by my house yesterday between 8:30 and 9:30 pm, you might have seen some very strange things.

You might have seen a woman negotiating with her dog and pleading with him not to get out of the fence.

You might have seen her successfully distract the dog with a stick, not knowing that she still had 3 more cycles of this to go. Stupid fence.

You might have seen the woman drag the lawn mower out of the fence, carefully follow the instruction her father gave her, and pull on the cord with all her might.

You then would have seen her stomp her foot because IT ISN'T WORKING AND SHE WAS FOLLOWING ALL OF THE DIRECTIONS AND

Then you would have seen her remember the last step. Victory!

You might have noticed that she has no idea how to cut a pattern in the grass with the lawn mower and that she takes the approach of "God's will be done with the yard" as she begins to push the mower up and down.

Then you could have seen her get to the driveway, and decide if the mower could cross it without damaging the... mowery parts. She decided she needed to turn it off.

She was wrong.

You might have then seen her attempt to restart the mower over and over and over and over and over and over and over until she looked like Billy Blanks from Tae Bo, except with less muscles and way more sweat.

You then would have noticed her drag the lawn mower up to the house, negotiate with the dog to get back inside the fence, and change clothes because if she was going to make a fool of herself in front of a busy street, she was going to be comfortable.

You might have seen that her tank top was completely and utterly see-through. She, however, did not see this until she got back inside. You're welcome, people of Lawrenceville.

You would have wondered about her sanity when she kicked the lawn mower and sat in the grass.

It would have made a little more sense when you saw her husband come home and help her figure out the problem, and saw her glee at having her power over the lawn restored.

You then could have sat back for the next 3 million hours as the woman slowly but surely made her way around the yard, going in a pattern that only she could see. Kind of. It was dark.

You might have stopped to wonder why a grown woman was running with a lawn mower, alternately laughing and trying not to throw up. If you had just ASKED you would have known that she decided walking was too boring and running would be more fun. She was right, by the way.

And if you drove by this morning, you would see a shorter, albeit uneven, yard, mowed with the determination of one who has learned her lesson about asking her husband if he will let her mow the lawn just this once. 

She should have used this instead