The grASSmaster

My honey, is outside mowing the lawn (“moving” as he sometimes puts it - hard to remember to switch sounds from the V to the W I guess). I can see him perfectly right now through the window, grass up to his knees. He’s killed the mower at least 4 times already. It appears as though the grass may have him beat. No…..wait…..he’s untangling himself from the grips of the green monster. He’s crawling away. It was a narrow escape but he seems to have managed it unscathed. And he’s back in the house, no worse for wear. I guess he’s happy our yard is much smaller now, it took all of 15 minutes. (2 hours if you count the whining and begging for me to do it)