Now I remember…

GRIN # 240

Yesterday we did yard work.

Okay, Jerry did yard work. I don’t do heavy yard work. It hurts my back. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it. I clean showers and toilets. That’s enough.

Jerry only does yard work about twice a year, thanks to neighbor Dean. When the bushes get severely overgrown I broach the topic delicately.

Me: “So maybe tomorrow if you’re feeling up to it, you could pull out the trimmer and trim the bushes.”

Him: Sigh. “That takes forever. I’m not going to feel up to it.”

Me: Nag, nag, nag.

Him: Sigh, sigh, eye-roll.

And then Jerry does something very smart and ultimately very passive/aggressive. He makes me sorry I even asked. He doesn’t just trim the bushes. He chops down struggling trees and bushes, dragging them to the street like corpses. He’s like a deranged Edward Scissorhands.

And then I remember why I ask only two times a year. Asking Jerry to do yard work is like having a baby. You remember how horrible it was and you stop thinking about it for a while and then memory fades and you start to reconsider. Only that’s a bad example because I only have one kid.

Speaking of which, as you can see here, we don’t have any child labor laws in the Gala family.

Hey, Tyler’s back is better than mine. Besides, hard work builds character.


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