I know an inordinate amount of lawn care professionals, and I still can’t get any of them to mow my yard in a timely manner.

I get it. The weather is unpredictable and I’m getting a steep discount, so I shouldn’t be at the top of the list with the actual paying customers, but still this is a problem because when the grass doesn’t get mowed, it really irks my wife.

Anna spends a lot of time pulling weeds, raking leaves and doing things to actually make our house look welcoming. Personally, I think that sends the wrong message to our neighbors, but it makes her happy and I genuinely want my wife to be happy.

So we’re driving in the car the other day and we are pulling back into our driveway and she goes “I’m just going to buy a lawnmower.”

I said something like “You don’t have time to mow the grass.” (Reference the above list.)

She said, “I didn’t say I was going to be the one mowing the grass.” Then she gave me look No. 11 of the 47 different looks I regularly get from my wife.

This particular look meant I would in fact be the one mowing the grass and I was an idiot for not immediately coming to that conclusion on my own.

That’s when I had a flashback of 10-year-old me when it was time to mow the grass.

I would do everything in my power to avoid mowing our grass. One time I managed to put off mowing the grass for three weeks. Each time I would go to start mowing the grass it would start raining.

I had been wishing, praying and performing whatever rituals I could think of to help the rain along and to my surprise it was working. Basically, I was Harry Potter before there was a Harry Potter.

This ended up being bad on two fronts.

One, I thought I had magical powers and there’s nothing more insufferable than a 10-year-old who thinks they’re magical. Two, rain only makes the grass grow taller.

So, week three comes along, day 21 of my magic streak, and I’m in the garage trying to make it rain again. By this time I’m sure I had some props like a magic amulet or two, a wand and lord only knows what else. And. It. Worked. Again.

So, I go back inside and plop back down on the couch and turn on some baseball. Then dad gets home.

Unfortunately, dad was not in the least bit enchanted by my abilities and he was about to conjure up a spell of his own.

I don’t remember exactly what he said, but I do remember dragging our old push mower all over the yard that day in the pouring rain.

You would think a lot would’ve changed since I was 10 years old and for the most part, you would be wrong.

Because the first thing I did when it was made clear who would be mowing the grass when Anna goes to buy a lawnmower was to start wishing, praying and performing whatever rituals I could think of to get my lawn guy out to my house to mow my grass.

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