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Humor April 2015

Lawn Day's Journey

By Dick Wolfsie

My wife wants a great lawn but has never lifted a finger to make it happen. She told me it’s like my expecting a good meal but not wanting to help in the kitchen. Man, I hate a good analogy.

Spring is here I am already a wreck about what a lousy-looking lawn we are going to have again this year. I’ve tried everything in the past. Even watering. I don’t understand why a dandelion can grow between two slabs of concrete, but I can’t get grass to grow anywhere in my front yard. Dandelions should never have been referred to as weeds.  That’s where the problem started.

Somehow, it has become my responsibility to take care of this growing problem. (Actually, not growing.) My wife wants a great lawn but has never lifted a finger to make it happen. She told me it’s like my expecting a good meal but not wanting to help in the kitchen. Man, I hate a good analogy.

Mary Ellen doesn’t mow the lawn even with what little grass we have. If I ask her about this, I’m afraid she’ll assume I want her to mow the lawn. This couldn't be further from the truth. If she started mowing the lawn, that might jeopardize her femininity. Yet if she really, really wanted to mow the lawn, I wouldn’t stop her.

When I decided to marry Mary Ellen, I guess it didn’t matter. After all, she was intelligent, beautiful, sensitive and caring. It was all a man could want. So I just assumed that if push came to shove (like, if I threw my back out and the grass got really tall), she’d mow then.

Sometimes I watch other women mowing and it turns me off. I mean, they’re wearing old, ratty slacks and t-shirts, and they’re sweating, so it’s the last thing I’d want my wife doing. Of course, I wouldn’t have to watch. I could go inside and turn on the TV. And when she finished, she could just freshen up before dinner. I’d order some take-out. A man should always do his part.

There are some days, especially in the summer, when I’d like to just sit in a lounge chair and sip lemonade, but instead I have to mow the lawn. That’s where a wife who’s willing to mow comes in really handy. Not that I’m going to make a big deal about this.

It’s chauvinistic for a man to make his wife mow the lawn. On the other hand, it’s kind of
chauvinistic for a man to assume that a woman can’t or won’t mow the lawn, so I should at least ask her. Maybe she secretly wants to, and she’s afraid I won’t let her.

Mowing the lawn is not easy. Doing it well requires a little planning and an effective technique. But my wife is capable of all that so I wonder what the problem is. And those new mowers kind of guide themselves and require very little strength. I’m sure that if she just knew the state-of-the art technology available, she’d jump at the chance to mow the lawn.

What’s wrong with her, anyway?

My friend Bob came over the other day and we were talking about landscaping. He asked me why Mary Ellen never mows the lawn.

“I don’t know,“ I said. “I never really thought about it.”

 

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