So it's now mowing season... again. We have a cordless rechargeable Black and Decker dealie, works great (when it's been serviced properly) and so easy even I can use it. Had it for ohhh 11 years. Hubby-dearling thought it was 15, had to prove to him it was only 11 (ha! I can add 7+4!!).
Anyhow... so he decided to do yard work this morning. After 2 hours of NOT hearing the lawnmower running, I poked my curious head out the door.
Me, watching him walk around the yard aimlessly, sans mower: "What's going on?"
Him, waving a weed-plucking device in one hand towards the garden shed: "Mower needs charging."
Me, scowling: "It was charged two days ago."
Him: "Well somehow it got unplugged." (guess he thinks squirrels did it)
Me, owning up: "Right - I unplugged it because it had been plugged in for a week already."
Him, hands on hips: "Well now it has to charge."
Me: "Are you sure?"
Him: "It has a red light."
Me: "Did you test it to see if maybe it was borderline and you could run it for a while, then charge it later?"
Him: "No, it has a red light."
Me: "Oka-a-ay , fine. Just try it, see if it's charged, I think the red light's a false-negative, it does that sometimes but it still has juice to run."
Ten minutes later...
Him, coming in the door scowling: "Can't mow. Blade just snapped off."
Me, disgusted at another delay: "Oh goodie. Guess that means it don't need charging now."
Him: "No, it needs a new blade."
Me: "You can take care of that, right?"
I could actually hear the grass growing. He just stood there looking at me with a blank look like I was supposed to stop work and go get a new blade from gosh-knows-where.
After two minutes of silent staring, I gave in and got the phone book out.
Me, disgusted further: "I knew I'd end up doing this."
Him: "I'm NOT going toPortland
Me, rolling my eyes: "You'll go where the repair place IS, even if it'sPortland
Him: "I'm not going toPortland
Dug around, found the owner's manual, looked up where theService Center
Me, grinning like an idiot cuz I couldn't help myself: "Guess what, you're going toPortland
Okay, I said that a little too gleefully, so sue me.
He growled.
Me, trying to justify: "It's not far, sweetie, it's just south of us right across theColumbia , barely into Portland
Held up a map to show him where it was. He studied it, grunted, then walked away. I went back to work.
He came back two minutes later in his jammies.
Me: "Ummm... hellllllo... does 'lawnmower need a blade today' mean anything to you?"
Him, plopping down in recliner: "I have to go TODAY?"
Me: "When would you suggest going?"
Him, thinking it would be a week before next day off and obviously hearing the grass growing too: "Umm..."
Me: "Get the mower and all the stuff in your car. It probably needs more than just a blade, so take everything with you and they can look at the whole thing. I'll print a map from Google for you. It's not far, you'll be down and back before you know it."
The grown man cussed and growled at me the whole way down the hall - at least that's what I think he did, I tuned him out. Thank God for earplugs, I say.
He disappeared to the garage in street clothes, then ten minutes later he came in sweating with a triumphant look on his face.
Him: "Had to wrestle the thing into the car."
Me: "I coulda helped you, you know, that sucker's kinda heavy."
Him: "Well... it's done. So there."
We're so mature, I almost stuck my tongue out at him but I didn't. He's been complaining about the mower for the last year. "It doesn't cut like it should!" "We need a new mower!" "It runs down on its charge too fast!" "We need a gas mower!" "I can't cut the lawn with this mower!!" and it never stops.
Well, if he replaced the blade when it got dull or chipped (takes an Act of Congress for him to do that), charged it properly (which he's never learned how), replaced the battery pack (another feat of modern science he doesn't understand yet), got the thing serviced ONCE IN A WHILE (don't get me started there), there'd be no whining. I usually tuned him out. Most of it sounded like "blah blah blah lawnmower blah blah blah" anyhow. The mower's his responsibility, not mine. It's not like I'm foisting off my own task, it's just that he said it was his thing years ago, so he can handle it on his own, right?
Turned out to be a bad-news-good-news thing: bad news, our old mower was broke and old, 11 years. The deck was pitted with holes, needed major work for almost $200 PLUS the cost of a new deck. But good news was that for $299 (and no sales tax cuz it's Oregon! yay!), we could get a factory like-new reconditioned model - a NEWER model too with better controls and better handle and everything - with all new stuff today with no waiting and wonder of wonders, they'd scrap out the old beast for us. Being this is the PNW and they're recycle-happy everywhere and especially here too, that's a bonus for us - no trash dumping fee, no figuring out what to do with a busted out-of-date mower with a battery pack that would have to be handled by a HazMat Team.
Me, just one hour later after the beginning of the whole fiasco: "You happy now?"
He just grunted. I took that as happiness. At least it wasn't whining or growling or cussing.
So we got a 'new' mower. Thing's a beauty too, I might just take up mowing again - if he'd let me touch his new toy. Did he remember to take the old grass catcher, charger, and mulching device? No, darnitall. But... hubby-dearling's happy. Hopefully I won't hear any whining for another decade until this one dies.
I can dream, can't I?
Anyhow... so he decided to do yard work this morning. After 2 hours of NOT hearing the lawnmower running, I poked my curious head out the door.
Me, watching him walk around the yard aimlessly, sans mower: "What's going on?"
Him, waving a weed-plucking device in one hand towards the garden shed: "Mower needs charging."
Me, scowling: "It was charged two days ago."
Him: "Well somehow it got unplugged." (guess he thinks squirrels did it)
Me, owning up: "Right - I unplugged it because it had been plugged in for a week already."
Him, hands on hips: "Well now it has to charge."
Me: "Are you sure?"
Him: "It has a red light."
Me: "Did you test it to see if maybe it was borderline and you could run it for a while, then charge it later?"
Him: "No, it has a red light."
Me: "
Ten minutes later...
Him, coming in the door scowling: "Can't mow. Blade just snapped off."
Me, disgusted at another delay: "Oh goodie. Guess that means it don't need charging now."
Him: "No, it needs a new blade."
Me: "You can take care of that, right?"
I could actually hear the grass growing. He just stood there looking at me with a blank look like I was supposed to stop work and go get a new blade from gosh-knows-where.
After two minutes of silent staring, I gave in and got the phone book out.
Me, disgusted further: "I knew I'd end up doing this."
Him: "I'm NOT going to
Me, rolling my eyes: "You'll go where the repair place IS, even if it's
Him: "I'm not going to
Dug around, found the owner's manual, looked up where the
Me, grinning like an idiot cuz I couldn't help myself: "Guess what, you're going to
Okay, I said that a little too gleefully, so sue me.
He growled.
Me, trying to justify: "It's not far, sweetie, it's just south of us right across the
Held up a map to show him where it was. He studied it, grunted, then walked away. I went back to work.
He came back two minutes later in his jammies.
Me: "Ummm... hellllllo... does 'lawnmower need a blade today' mean anything to you?"
Him, plopping down in recliner: "I have to go TODAY?"
Me: "When would you suggest going?"
Him, thinking it would be a week before next day off and obviously hearing the grass growing too: "Umm..."
Me: "Get the mower and all the stuff in your car. It probably needs more than just a blade, so take everything with you and they can look at the whole thing. I'll print a map from Google for you. It's not far, you'll be down and back before you know it."
The grown man cussed and growled at me the whole way down the hall - at least that's what I think he did, I tuned him out. Thank God for earplugs, I say.
He disappeared to the garage in street clothes, then ten minutes later he came in sweating with a triumphant look on his face.
Him: "Had to wrestle the thing into the car."
Me: "I coulda helped you, you know, that sucker's kinda heavy."
Him: "Well... it's done. So there."
We're so mature, I almost stuck my tongue out at him but I didn't. He's been complaining about the mower for the last year. "It doesn't cut like it should!" "We need a new mower!" "It runs down on its charge too fast!" "We need a gas mower!" "I can't cut the lawn with this mower!!" and it never stops.
Well, if he replaced the blade when it got dull or chipped (takes an Act of Congress for him to do that), charged it properly (which he's never learned how), replaced the battery pack (another feat of modern science he doesn't understand yet), got the thing serviced ONCE IN A WHILE (don't get me started there), there'd be no whining. I usually tuned him out. Most of it sounded like "blah blah blah lawnmower blah blah blah" anyhow. The mower's his responsibility, not mine. It's not like I'm foisting off my own task, it's just that he said it was his thing years ago, so he can handle it on his own, right?
Turned out to be a bad-news-good-news thing: bad news, our old mower was broke and old, 11 years. The deck was pitted with holes, needed major work for almost $200 PLUS the cost of a new deck. But good news was that for $299 (and no sales tax cuz it's Oregon! yay!), we could get a factory like-new reconditioned model - a NEWER model too with better controls and better handle and everything - with all new stuff today with no waiting and wonder of wonders, they'd scrap out the old beast for us. Being this is the PNW and they're recycle-happy everywhere and especially here too, that's a bonus for us - no trash dumping fee, no figuring out what to do with a busted out-of-date mower with a battery pack that would have to be handled by a HazMat Team.
Me, just one hour later after the beginning of the whole fiasco: "You happy now?"
He just grunted. I took that as happiness. At least it wasn't whining or growling or cussing.
So we got a 'new' mower. Thing's a beauty too, I might just take up mowing again - if he'd let me touch his new toy. Did he remember to take the old grass catcher, charger, and mulching device? No, darnitall. But... hubby-dearling's happy. Hopefully I won't hear any whining for another decade until this one dies.
I can dream, can't I?
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