Ellemental

Grass (actually, just the mowing of grass) has been a thorn in my side since I moved here 4 years ago. I don’t have a big yard. It’s small, flat, and has no obstructions. It should be a dream to mow. In a perfect world, it IS a dream to mow. In a perfect world, though, I don’t have weird neighbors.

When I first moved here, one neighbor, Max, asked me if I wanted him to mow my lawn when he mowed his. I accepted and thanked him. Yeah, I could have done it myself, but with an irregular schedule, it easier just to pay a few bucks and know it’s done (plus, I don’t own a lawn mower.) One day I came home from work and a another neighbor, Timmy had mowed (mown?) . I thanked him but explained that Max was mowing for me. Timmy threw a fit. Seriously. His face turned bright red and his hands were in tight fists. “But I always mowed this yard before you moved here! I want to mow all the yards next to mine at the same time so they all look the same!” It would have been funny if he hadn’t scared the almighty crap out of me. Both Max and Timmy are a little…God, I don’t even know how to be politically correct here…slow. Max is an 8 year old boy in a 50 year old man’s body. He still lives with his mom next door. Timmy is younger, also still lives with his mom. They moved away a few years ago, but when he lived next door, I was about half afraid of him. Especially after the big Lawn Mowing To-Do.

Yes, there was a big Lawn Mowing To-Do. Max and Timmy, fighting over who was going to mow my tiny tiny bit of yard. My yard was being mowed like, 4 times a week. They were bleeding me dry. I finally had to tell them both that I would cut my own damn grass. I started borrowing my grandmother’s mower, and wheeling it back to my house. I was surprised to find that it only took 20 minutes, tops, to complete the task. I actually ENJOYED mowing.

I told the story of the big Lawn Mowing To-Do to a gentleman who had asked me out on a date. The date wasn’t going particularly well (he talked about nothing but his exwife, who turned into a bitch after she started making more money than him, and by the way, how much money do YOU make a year?) and I needed something, ANYTHING to get him to stop asking me what I normally pay in utility bill a month and how much my car payment was. We chuckled imagining 2 grown men fighting over a tiny bit of grass, then he asked me how much I paid in rent.

The next weekend I mowed my grass on Friday night. Saturday morning I heard a strange sound in my front yard. Dateman. On a riding lawn mower. He rode his lawn mower clear across town to come mow my lawn for me. Yes, it COULD have been a sweet gesture if I wasn’t so freaked out, and if I didn’t say clearly SEVERAL TIMES during the Lawn Mowing To-Do story that I was happy to finally be mowing my own yard. WHY DOES EVERYONE WANT TO MOW MY LAWN???

Things settled down a bit after that. I mowed my own yard the rest of that summer and the next. A couple times last year I came home to find Max had mowed and then wanted me to pay him for it. It’s not the money, I swear. It’s just the fact that he didn’t even ASK me first. He just did it. As I paid him, I thanked him, but explained that I wanted to mow my own yard. I enjoyed it, and it was good exercise for me. Everything would be good for a month or so, then he’d do it again. Argh!

This summer he finally wore me down. I couldn’t get it across that I didn’t appreciate him mowing without asking, then standing on my porch as I drove up from work wanting to be paid. Or even worse, if he didn’t see my drive up, he would just walk into my house later in the evening and ask for his money.

So I came to terms with Max mowing my yard. I convinced myself that it was worth it, that I wouldn’t get upset when I came home from work to find that yet again he had mowed without asking me first. It was all good. Better than good. It was great. I wouldn’t have to worry about anything anymore.

One night this week, as I got home, I saw that Max had mowed. Had mowed his own yard, anyhow. For some reason, now that I want and EXPECT him to mow my yard, he hasn’t.

This is why my grass is tall enough to harbor small animals. I guess I’ll be borrowing my grandmother’s lawn mower this afternoon. *sigh*

I can’t win.