I May Have to Learn New Skills

The lawn hasn’t been mowed for two, going on three, weeks. On the one hand, fortunately, we have no grass left in the yard… okay, very little grass left in the yard… so it doesn’t look that bad because the weeds can only grow so tall.

But the Butcher has late nights all this week.

And it’s going to rain this weekend.

So, it might be me mowing tomorrow night. I have never mowed using a riding lawn mower. In fact, if you remember, I just learned how to turn the thing on last fall. And I drove it approximately twice.

And I will have to call my dad and refresh on how to start it.

Oh, and the other stupid thing I did? I talked the Butcher out of hiring someone, because I thought, with an acre it’d have to be a million dollars to get it mowed, by promising I would rake.


Today I learned that people hire baby planners, like wedding planners, but for your pregnancy. I’m having a hard time understanding this, but that could just be because my family’s idea of getting ready for a baby is going to the doctor, moving all smoking outside, and making sure the 100-year-old crib all babies on my mom’s side of the family are required to sleep in in order to prove their worthiness won’t crack under their weight.

But I do wonder if I couldn’t benefit from a lawn planner, someone to say “if the Butcher wants to spend his money, shut the fuck up.”

Man, but my lawn planner would always be nagging me about weeding.

That part would suck.

Unless my lawn planner would help me weed…

And my neighbor is having a baby! Without the benefit of a baby planner! We could both pitch in and hire a lawn baby planner.

I wonder if it’s justifiable to leave work early to go home and mow your lawn…

I’m a little loopy from tiredness. Work has been wild. Interesting and challenging and fun, but wow, all week I’ve been just busy as hell. I felt Thursday evening tired halfway through this morning.

I may need a job planner, too.

And a sleep planner…

And a let-the-dog-out planner…

Basically, someone else to run my life while I get all the glory. Not that there’s a lot of glory from living my life, yet, but it could come.

11 thoughts on “I May Have to Learn New Skills

  1. a baby planner? isn’t that what the rest of us call an OB-GYN? or Ms. Murkoff of “What to Expect…” fame? or a mother?

    And here I was just starting to wrap my head around gender (which clearly should be “sex” not “gender”) cake parties. Oh the things people do with disposable income.

    I say you help him resist hiring a lawn planner because ever dollar he doesn’t spend there he can spend elsewhere. and you can learn to drive the mower.

    granted, this is advice coming from a woman who once and only once started a push mower and sorta cut the grass that one chunk of time when father and brother were both away for over a week.

  2. People used to do cocaine when they had too much money. Has it come to this?

    What is a gender party? (I fear I will regret this question)

  3. Oh god. A gender party is as follows–rather than waiting for the baby to come out and having your doctor say “It’s a girl” or waiting for the little thing to move in just the right way so that the person doing the sonogram can say “it’s a boy” and then you call up the people who give a shit and you say “it’s a whatever!,” you instead have the sonogram person write down what it is, seal it in an envelope, which you then give to a baker.

    That baker… no, I am not making this up… then opens the envelope and makes a cake based on the gender of your child.

    You throw a party. When the cake is revealed, you find out in front of everyone what it is.

    I guess it’s for people who like to show off how surprised they are.

    I don’t know.

  4. After reading the linked Gawker article and now knowing what a gender party is, I officially hate certain kinds of people a little more.

    It is as if these individuals sit around and dream up ways to out-obnoxious one another.

  5. I could’ve successfully lived the rest of my life not knowing what a gender party is.

    Oh well. Not every day can start with a dick joke. :)

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