Saturday in May

Saturday in May

So look; Nobody wants to go out and mow the lawn. It’s not on anybody’s list of fun things to do with an afternoon. But your wife took the older kids to Scout-o-Rama, so it’s just you, the three-year-old and the baby, and they’re both asleep or busy and you feel like a dolt just sitting around doing nothing.

So you go outside and try to get the lawnmower started up and then remember to put gas in it and drag it out front and fire that puppy up and pretty soon your lawn is clean and short and has those lines in it that say you’re a responsible home owner instead of some punk kid who somehow managed to buy a house and doesn’t deserve it at all, not that you ever feel that way. Nope.

But you’re not done yet. Pop open the garage door and grab that new cordless trimmer/edger thing. Grab a battery pack off the shelf and slide it into place with a sweet click like you just jacked a fresh clip into your 9mm, because you’re about to go all Dirty Harry on those blades of grass that defied your mower. Three minutes later the fence line is clear and you do that twisty thing with the edger, flip it over and start shaving the lawn along the curb, trimming that line so straight you could use it as an example for boot camp barbers, but your edger is starting to lose its zest for life.

No problem. You’ve got four battery packs for this thing. Click, slide, click and suddenly that sucker is off to the races, sounding like the angriest metal hornet ever forged. You clean up all the curbing around the flower beds, then go in the house, grab a bottle of milk from the fridge and get it warming up, because not only are you the manliest dang weekend warrior on the block, but you are sensitive and nurturing as crap and you’re going to spend some quality time with your newborn as soon as you get all the rogue grass around the newly planted peach tree cut down to size.

Here comes the cool part, slide that battery pack out of the edger, slap it into the blower. Turnaround time: 5 seconds. Two minutes later your sidewalks and driveway are clean enough to do surgery on. You got your lawn looking good and looked good doing it. And with a lawn like that you don’t worry so much about those last ten pounds you haven’t been able to lose or their 40 good friends. Now it’s back in the house to give that baby a bottle and make sure he’s clean, happy and dry before your wife gets home.

Baby’s not awake yet, so you go get some laundry in, because real men wash they own clothes, dog. Baby wakes up just as you finish putting all the clean laundry away, so time to sit down on the couch, prop your iPad up on its sweet lime green case/stand thing and watch some Phineas and Ferb while you feed your new son, because not only are you extra manly and super sensitive, but you’ve got a whimsical streak a mile wide and people like that about you.

Later that night you’ll install a new doorknob on the shed because you’re handy like that, but for now just pay attention to your son and the animated antics of overachieving preteens. Not bad, kid. Not bad.

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