Men, Mowers and the Women Who Trash Pick for Them

Our lawn mower has broken. And according to my husband, who holds the self appointed title of Fixer of All Things Broken As Long As You Don’t Expect It Done In Less Than Six Months… (ok, you got me, that last part is my addition), it is unrepairable and we need a new one. But not a NEW, new one.

Normal people would probably head out to Sears or Home Depot and start looking at some very nice and shiny new lawn mowers. The husband might drool for a few moments over a suped up V-8 riding mower with a built in TV/DVD combo before his wife would come over and explain the dangers in watching TV while driving a motorized vehicle that has a sharpened blade that spins at 300RPM. The husband would, of course, ignore such safety concerned drivel and inquire if their oldest child really needs to go to college. The wife would then point out that the riding mower costs more that the wide screen high definition TV that he wanted.

And that they can’t buy both.

The husband would sigh and the two would then return to the push mowers and buy a sensible mower that cuts the grass and does little else.

That is what a normal couple does when they need a new mower. At least that is what I guess happens as I would not know.

I am married to a man who has Pride. And his Pride tells him, in its all knowing, oracle like voice, that we can not simply buy a lawn mower. Oh no. Pride tells him that we must haul a lawn mower from the curb of some less worthy man’s house, preferably on a trash night so as to avoid possible prosecution for theft.

My husband will then repair said absconded lawn mower and thus prove that his Manhood is greater than the Manhood of the unknown person who previously owned the lawn mower and in his folly, threw it away. Because his Pride will not have it any other way. His father never paid for a lawn mower, damn it, and he’ll be damned if he will pay for one too.

He fails to mention that his father now owns a new V-8 riding mower with the TV/DVD that he bought but I know that if I mention this, it would be pointed out to me that his father does not own a lawn mower, he owns a riding tractor. There is a difference, you know. *eyes roll* Yeah, the difference is we can’t afford a riding mower and he would look plenty silly mowing our postage stamp yard with it anyway.

But secretly, I am thrilled. This means that I have to start trash picking again until we find a suitable lawn mower. I LOVE trash picking. I have some sort of weird superhero strength power that allows me to find exactly what I need and then some. I had to give up the hobby though because I am so good at it. Our house is simply too small to hold all the awesome stuff I find and if I see something, I am compelled to bring it home. I just can’t leave it there. So, I stopped before we were forced to buy a bigger house.

But we need a new lawn mower. But not a NEW, new lawn mower. Time to pull out the Wonder Woman underoos. My man has Pride and I am going to save it, one trash night at a time.