Grass Cutting Monster

So, since my extremely smart husband has been working his gluteous-maximus off trying to finish his Med School application, our weekend was mainly based around: Med School app, Redbox, $1 Movie, Sonic, Soccer Game, Cleaning, and LawnMowing.
Lawn Mowing, you ask? Yes...that was me. And, contrary to popular belief: I DO know how to mow a lawn. Let's do the math: I was the youngest of five GIRLS. So, when the older girls left home....guess who's job it was to mow our lawn every Saturday? Mine. My Dad meticulously taught me how to line up the lawnmower wheels with the lines on the yard so that I could mow a straight line. Got it, Dad. No need for practice. And, I am proud to say that I was a pretty mean grass cutter, if I say so myself.
So, ever since Brandon and I started dating, and I realized that the man of my dreams owned his own Landscaping/Mowing business, I started to talk myself up.

(Somewhere back in '06)
B: I can't go out tonight, I have to finish mowing lawns.
E: Oh! I can help you. I know how to mow! Seriously.
B: (uhm....no) Actually, let's just go out. I'll mow tomorrow.


So, it wasn't until last Saturday that I was able to exhibit my AMAZING mowing skills for my husband. Since we had a soccer game in the afternoon, and Harbor Freight was having their Sidewalk Sale....Brandon wasn't able to get around to his lawns until Saturday evening. And, normally our bro-in-law TJ works with Brandon, but it was his and Kimberly's 6-month anniversary...so Brandon decided he could do it. And where did that leave me? Well, I could either hang out by myself, or prove to my husband that he had the right woman for the job. My only stipulation: it had to be a push-mower, because I don't know how to work with those fancy tractors.

So, once we showed up to this entire city block of homes, I thought to myself, "This is going to be EASY." These are small homes in South Provo, so the size of lawn at each house equalled 1/8th of my Dad's backyard.

Brandon unloaded the beautiful push-mower off of his trailer, and proceeded to give me instructions on how to use it. "Pssh." I thought. "I know how to work a lawnmower, Sweetie. Come on." So, I pulled the "starter cord" to start the engine. Success. I was on a roll.

So, I don't know how best to explain this next part except that I thought Brandon wasn't watching, and I definitely thought I knew how to work a lawnmower.
Well, apparently, on these so-called "new" lawnmowers (read: post 1992), there is a handle that controls the blades. Oh, and also...let me mention the fact that the handle ALSO controls the speed of the mower. Well, on my Dad's old mower, this so-called handle was a one-handle-does-all. So, I would pull that handle up and start a-mowin'. So, I proceeded to pull this handle ALL the way up (a.k.a. 10 MPH), and the mower took off. All of a sudden, I was behind a grass-eating MONSTER! The tighter my grip on the handle, the faster the mower would go. I was doomed. And, there was a chain-link fence about to fall victim of this Villain. So, the mower took me for a ride. And, luckily, the chain link fence was strong enough to withstand the blow. But, the worst part? Brandon saw the whole thing. I thought I was in the clear. I figured he was on the other side of the house. No. He was watching.

And, let's not even begin to talk about the sprinkler head and the hose later that evening.

Moral of the story: Insert foot in mouth. And, kick that wretched lawn mower.