Even I Don’t Believe It

I was feeling so industrious when I got up Thursday morning. It was an unexpectedly cool day for this time of year and I was going to take advantage of it by mowing both the front and the back lawn. By noon, I was irritated, the front lawn hadn’t been touched, and the backyard was only halfway done.

To understand this tale of woe, I have to give you a little background. About a week and a half ago, I mowed the front yard. Vic’s knee was hurting and was in no shape to manage the hill of the front yard. When I was done, I was hot (temp that day was over 93) and tired. So, I asked Vic to go out later and clean off the lawnmower. I had taken the gas can out front too (but never ended up needing to refill the mower). I also asked him to take the mower and the gas can into the backyard when he was done. Well, the mower was never cleaned and the gas can was never moved. I don’t want you to look on this as a “Vic is lazy” moment because he isn’t. He does far more around here than most men would. However, I wasn’t in the mood to play remind the grownup about tasks that need doing so, the lawn mower sat at the top of the driveway for a week and a half.

Coming back to last Thursday…by 10 am, I had wheeled the mower into the back yard and was happily listening to my mp3 player while I mowed the lawn. I knew the gas tank wasn’t full enough to do the whole yard but I figured I’d just fill it up when it ran out. When the mower sputtered to a stop, I bent down to unscrew the cap of the gas tank and this is what I saw…

What? You mean you can’t quite see into the open gas tank. Here, let me provide a closer view…
What the fuck are ROCKS doing in the gas tank? I was ready kill a certain little boy. That’s right, at some point before I had mowed the lawn last, sweet little angelic (bwahahahahahaha) Gabriel fed fucking ROCKS to my lawn mower. I suppose I should be glad it was rocks and not dirt because dirt would have mixed with the gas and fouled the motor. Now, I had to figure out how in the hell I was going to get those rocks out. I couldn’t reach in with my fingers because the combination of a couple of fingers and a rock was too big to fit through that opening. My tools of choice for the Rockectomy ended up being a long handled teaspoon (known in the south as an ice tea spoon), a fondue skewer, and a pair of tweezers. After a little cursing and a lot of muttering, the rockectomy was a success.
I then went searching for the gas can. I looked everywhere and couldn’t find it. So, being a bit pissed off and irritated, I decided to wake Vic up and ask him where he put it. See, Vic has been working nights (2pm til 2 am) so I generally avoid waking him up during the day but I was ticked off so Vic got woken up. I thought maybe he had put the gas can somewhere only a male brain would think of…but, noooooo, he thought the gas can was still at the top of the driveway. Well, fuck me, that means the gas can had been stolen. So, looking like death warmed over (because I was waiting to shower until the lawn was done), Gabe and I went off to Lowes to buy a gas can. The guys at Lowes got a good laugh when they heard me explaining to Gabe that “No, we do not fill the gas tank of mommy’s lawn mower with rocks.” So, once we got back, I tried again. I had been mowing for all of about ten minutes when I felt something catch on the blade and the mower stopped. We have a heavy duty rope loop with a tennis ball on it for playing tug of war with the dogs. Said toy was halfway in a hole so I didn’t see it when I checked the lawn. Instead of the blade cutting through the rope, the frakking loop got caught around the blade. Now, it was the sheer force of theblades that forced a rope that side through an itty bitty space. I can’t match the force of the blade. So, I had to turn the lawn mower on its side and yank and pull and tug until the area of the rope that had been cut into lined up right so I could get the rope loop at the blade. Of course, by now, the motor is flooded and it won’t start until it dries out. And, that is how I got to noon and didn’t even have the back lawn finished. The front yard never did get mowed that day.

11 Responses to Even I Don’t Believe It
  1. Dot
    September 5, 2009 | 12:46 pm

    LOL…this sounds like something that would happen to me !

  2. Sheliza
    September 5, 2009 | 1:14 pm

    aww crap! never a dull moment in the Cruz household!!

  3. Another Dreamer
    September 5, 2009 | 3:08 pm

    Crap! That sucks. An eventful mower experience though, lol.

  4. becomingwhole
    September 5, 2009 | 4:47 pm

    That Gabe…he’s lucky he’s so darn cute.

  5. Velda
    September 5, 2009 | 6:12 pm

    OMG I am laughing SO hard…sorry lol….maybe you should make HIM mow the lawn! Oh and hide the matches! lol

  6. Carrie27
    September 5, 2009 | 8:54 pm

    More reasons why I hate mowing the lawn. Hate, hate, hate IT!

  7. battynurse
    September 5, 2009 | 9:34 pm

    Wow. See this is why I don’t mow the lawn. Just too much headache. Of course the heat here has something to do with it too as does the fact that the owner covers yard maintenance. I think I’ve mowed the lawn once in my life. Sorry your days mowing went so badly.

  8. Nina
    September 6, 2009 | 8:36 am

    Aaaaand this is why my husband does the mowing, because the neighbors would have called the paddywagon on me. My husband is much more suited to frustrating situations like this.

  9. Rayne of Terror
    September 6, 2009 | 4:26 pm

    I don’t think I could have kept my cool about the rocks. V frustrating when little boys experiment like that.

  10. Anonymous
    September 7, 2009 | 12:38 am

    Thank God you aren’t like my friend. She was mowing the lawn and turned the lawn mower on it’s side to clean the grass out…it was still running. She sliced the top of one of her fingers off. Could have been so much worse.
    You seem like me and my youngest with Gabe. My first kid I would have punished him for putting rocks in the mower and alot of what gabe has done. I put my foot down early with him and had no “problems”. My youngest…I am older and have been through it before. This kid is trying my patients. I tell him to sit down on a chair or couch. He does for a second then looks at me laughs and stands up…and he is only 15 months old. I have 17 more years of this

  11. Meari
    September 9, 2009 | 1:20 pm

    Oh lord! At least you didn’t have major damage done to the mower. I think I would’ve been PO’d too.

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