Saturday morning dawned fresh and bright. With only a touch of coolness in the air, we realized that we couldn’t ignore our yard any longer. All around us, our neighbors have been mowing their grass for weeks. With weeds as tall as the dog, it was time to roll up our sleeves. Always ready to compromise on chores, we determined that this year we’d divide yard responsibilites.
I like the front yard to appear manicured and well maintained, while my beloved could care less. Therefore, I agreed to accept responsibility for the front yard on one condition: I refuse to touch the green monster, i.e. our yard tractor. I would gladly mow if we’d purchase something that I could easily use. If he wanted to use the green monster, then fine. But I despise that yard tractor. It’s cumbersome, complicated, and more moody than I am. When he’s driving it, a perfect lawn is achieved. When I operate it, the yard looks like a five year old used her Fiskars scissors to cut the grass. With obvious relief on his face, my beloved grabbed the keys and off we went. You see, he doesn’t like it when I use his yard tractor, either.
We walked into the store and wandered over to the push mower selection. An eager young salesman walked up to my beloved and asked if he could help. My husband muttered something about looking at push mowers and the eager salesman started in. “Yep, I’ve sold lots this morning. I even sold one with a key!”
“A key?” I asked.
Finally noticing the female customer he answered, “Yes m’am! It had a key.”
“Why did it need a key?”
“So you can start it!”
Without missing a beat, I looked at him and said, “We’ll take it.” He cut his eyes towards my husband as if to confirm this decision to which I responded, “Yep, load ‘er up!” I then looked at my snickering husband and said, “Finally, somebody understands that its never attractive for a middle-aged fat woman to crank a lawn mower!” Ten minutes later, the eager young salesman was loading our new mower in the back of our hybrid.
“Well, that was easier than I expected,” said my beloved with a smirk.
We got home, and he began unboxing the mower. Let me tell you, it’s a real beauty. A self-propelled, bright red dream machine. It even has a grass catcher — a good thing because I hate dead clippings and my beloved hates raking. The only thing missing is a cup holder. The best part? The keyed starter. One turn and my dream machine comes alive. Now I realize, that we’ve had a key starter for years on our riding mower. But even with the key, it requires turning knobs and fiddling around to it get going. On the other hand, never in my life has it been so easy to start a mower with a simple turn. You have to understand: I drive a Prius. It doesn’t have a key starter. Turning the key and hearing the engine roar to life is thrilling.
Even the deck adjustment is easy to use! With a quick stroke, I was able to adjust the deck to my interpretation of the perfect grass height. No struggling, no cussing, and no kicking required. My beloved edged with the weed wacker, while a handy neighbor seeded and fertilized our lawn. In about thirty minutes, our front yard was perfectly manicured.
I can’t wait ’til next weekend, when I get to do it again.