I wanted to help Dave (ok... myself, I wanted to help myself to Dave...) The guy gets home from work and... mows the lawn.... first thing. I hate it. I want his time. I don't want his time on a lawn mower. Today the weather was, well... not raining. I wanted to be outside. I saw the long grass in the back and thought, "Perfect, I can do this for him and forget all about the jobs that need to be done inside the house.... I want to be outside!"
Two rounds. Not even two rounds on that ride'em lawn mower and it was smoking. Good grief, I should have paid attention when it shut off automatically the few times that it did on the first round.... but no... I pushed it, and all of a sudden, all I saw was SMOKE billowing out from under the tractor. Oh shit. What the Vegt have I done? Dave is going to be sooooo choked at me. so choked. I decided to leave the mower right where it was. Nope. Not. Going. To. Touch. It. Again. So, I called him.... turns out, he's on his way home RIGHT NOW. I don't have to agonize over my punishment or penance, whatever.... I'm going to find out RIGHT NOW just how bad it is.
Oh shit. This is not good.
Boterkoek (Dutch for Buttercake) my peace offering.
He takes it.
And is sooooooooo annoyed with me. He thinks he'll have to take it away to get fixed. Turns out I had the blades on FAR TOO LOW, for one, second, the "grass" I was trying to mow is like 7 inches tall... woopsies. Third, I probably ran over something that I shouldn't have.
Lawn-mowing FAIL. He'll never ask me to do it again. Oh. Wait. He didn't? Nevermind.
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