Yard tools hate my guts

"Whenever I watch TV and see those poor starving kids all over the world, I can't help but cry. I mean I'd love to be skinny like that but not with all those flies and death and stuff." Mariah Carey.

My husband should be so mad at me right now. I mean, he should be screaming, throwing his arms around, kicking things and maybe even telling me what a worthless dope I am. But he's not. He's never done anything like that. But for today, I should be in so much trouble with him.

For fathers day the kids and I gifted Corey a new weed eater - It was a pretty cool one. After he opened it and went through it's contents, he found that the motor was a 2 stroke and had to have a gasoline/oil mix to run. OK. A few days later we made a trip to town to pick up some things. Corey purchased the special oil for the machine as well as a new gas can. I remember thinking that it was odd that he purchased a new gas can, since we have one that works just fine. But, I also don't remember inquiring about it. He put everything together the next day, got it going and weed whacked his heart out. The yard looked fantastic upon completion.

That was, of course, a couple of weeks ago. Our yard has gotten away from us in that time, and weeds had appeared in mass quantities, and our back and side yards had grown to a very unattractive playground for our cats. A couple of nights ago Corey sighed at the sight and apologized for not having the time to do the yard work. Well, it's kinda hard to have time for yard work when the work days are 12 or more hours long every day of the week. Obviously I wasn't upset at all, but, I did see that he knew it needed to be done, and was stressed just thinking about it. I decided to take action. I should've stopped there.

Maija came this morning to sit with the kids so that I could venture out and do some yard work. It was a whopping 70 degrees outside and I was so thankful for that. Attempting to do this last week, in the week long 100 plus degree weather would have been yard work suicide. Glad I didn't. So, I pulled out the mower and started it up. I mowed the front, one side, the back yard and once I got to the west side of our house the mower began to sputter. I checked the gas tank and it was just about empty. I went to the shop to grab the gas can we normally use.....Empty. I noticed the new gas can and checked it. It was full, so I brought it out with me. Since the can was pretty small to begin with, I didn't want to use all of the gas in the mower, so I just used a little. The mower started and I went back to cutting. A couple minutes later, the mower began to pull a little and began to make a sound that went something like "rrrrrrrrUUUUUUUU rrrrrrrrrrrrrrr UUUUUUUUrrrrrrrrrrr". Then, it quit. What the heck? I waited a couple of minutes and started it again. Sounds fine. I mowed a few rows when again the mower began to pull, make that weird noise, and finally quit. I couldn't get it started again. I put the mower away and grabbed the weed whacker. For the life of me, I couldn't get that damn thing to work right either. I finished up what I could, headed inside, took a quick shower and relieved Maija of the children. I was so proud that I was able to do that for us, and I was sure Corey would be thrilled as well.

Through the day I cleaned, did laundry and even put on a slow cooker with beef ribs in an awesome marinade. I was so excited for my hubby to come home, see the yard done and relax with a nice, home cooked meal. At dinner, we were talking all about our days - What we'd done, who we'd seen, any new news....You know, the daily dish. I mentioned that I had mowed - Funny, he didn't notice upon his arrival home. But when he saw it, he told me how nice it looked. I then told him about the funny noises and halting of the mower so that he could look at it sometime in the future. His first question: Was it out of gas? I said "Yeah, but I put more in. He looked at me with a pale face. He then asked, "What gas can did you use?" I said, "I used the new small one, cause' the big one was empty." I swear, the blood drained from his face right in front of me. He then informed me that the reason the mower was quitting was because that gas can was strictly for the weed wacker and putting that mix in the mower most likely ruined it. Oh Lord, I've killed the lawnmower! Apparently he bought that small can to keep a premixed gas for the weed eater, and said that he actually explained this to me so that I NEVER used it for anything but the weed wacker. Either I was nowhere around when that conversation happened, he never told me, or I just completely forgot. I'm going with he never told me, but that's because I SWEAR that he never told me that the oil and gas were going to be premixed in the gas can. I was sure that the oil was put directly into the machine after the gas was added. No matter how you roll the dice, it was the worst thing that I could have done. He calmly told me that it was OK, he knows I didn't mean to do it, and that now I know what that can's for. That gentleness in his voice still just about killed me. I feel sooooo bad for what happened, and wish I could turn back time, if just for today.

So much for de-stressing the most stressed out man in the world. I notice that many of the things I do are "You're damned if you do, and damned if you don't" kind of things. I could stay home with the kids instead of going to the store, because it's easier, and I don't really think I need to drag 3 kids out, squeeze them in a cart and pray to God they don't all scream at the same time. But, when it comes to dinner time, that ONE ingredient I need to finish it off is nowhere to be found in my house, but rather smiling at the customers as they walk by in the grocery store I chose not to visit with the children earlier in the day. This happens all the time.

So, though I'm fairly sure my husband probably skimmed the thought of kicking me to the curb, he loves me and I love him and accidents happen. I especially love him for humoring my ignorance. I suppose I won't be running any kind of machinery if he's got a say about it. It takes a certain brand of crazy to be married to me, and, I can't say I'd blame him if he locked the shop and hid the key! Days like these I wish that everything around me had a magic button.