Today was a different day, right from the start. First, I woke up at about one in the
afternoon like usual. However, instead of waking up to my
brother, or my
dog, I woke up to my dad. He was off of work for the day. Uh oh. This always spelled trouble. Not real
trouble, just work for me. Yup, sure enough. My task for the day was a new and interesting one. Something I had never done before.
My dad decided that since I was almost twenty years old, and had never cut the grass before, it was time I learned how. Our lawn is not just any lawn. We have an acre of property, and this is no easy task. There are trees, swings, gardens, the pool area, the gazebo, and the wooden paths.
So, he dragged me down into the depths of the basement, and out to the lower garage where the lawnmowers were kept. I began to get somewhat excited, thinking I could actually grow to like using the riding lawnmower and just sitting pretty on the John Deere. Wrong. My dad wouldn't let me within a three feet radius of the rider. My mower was the push mower. His justification was that is was self-propelled; therefore, it was no problem.
Well, I should have realized that my first problem was that I couldn't start it. Now, I am no Hercules, but I thought I had enough power in my 5'2, 100 pound body to atleast pull the chord hard enough to start this lawnmower. Well, as much as I tried, I continued to fail. I absolutely could not get it started. So, I went in the house, changed my clothes, got out my Walkman and headphones, and returned for my day of hell. My dad started it for me, and away it went. It took a couple back-and-forths to get the hang of it.
Finally, after I had about half the yard done, I was so thirsty, I could hardly stand it. Luckily, my dad had not left to go golfing yet, so I could run inside, and he could still start it for me. So, I ran in, grabbed a grilled cheese sandwich my brother made, and ran back out again. He started it up, and I had to operate the mower with only one hand, while eating my grilled cheese sandwich with the other hand.
After about another hour of zig-zagging, making circles, and back-and-forths, I had finished. And, let me tell you, I was damn proud. The markings on the grass weren't exactly normal, because usually, only back-and-forths are made.
So, as I finished up, and put the gas can and the mower back into the garage, my dad pulled back in, and right behind him came my guy best friend. Well, those two inconsiderate males decided to have a field day with my mowing skills. For the next fifteen minutes, the only thing they did was criticize the way I mowed, and all of the tiny spots I missed. Well, I got angry and upset.
Of course, being the girl that I am, I started crying. I began yelling at them, saying that none of my friends that are girls ever cut the grass. And I never claimed to be good. It was his idea for me to cut the stupid grass and it isn't fair that they should be laughing at me. No one ever showed me how to cut the grass and I just did it the way I saw fit. It doesn't matter how the grass got cut, the point is that I cut it. You should be excited that I did it, instead of telling me how much I did it wrong. With that, I look at my dad and said, "You can cut your own damn grass from now on." And then I looked at my guy best friend, and I said, "And you. You can go home."
Well, the extent that I was upset only made them laugh harder and it only made me more upset.
In the coming events, both of these pain-in-the-ass males apologized to me, and alerted me of the fact that they both were indeed surprised and excited by the fact that I made an effort to mow the grass and that they were just teasing me about the way I cut, and that the lawn looked "nice." What a day!!!