When I was a kid, mowing the lawn was my job. There are seven kids in my family, so how I ended up pushing a mower across an acre of land once a week for $5 bucks is one of those mysteries of the universe.
If I complained about the job (and oh, did I complain!) my dad would tell me I could always use a pair of tweezers instead. If I waited too long, hoping Dad would let me off the hook, and it got dark, he just handed me a flashlight and told me to get to work. I’d like to say I learned something from the experience, but mostly I just learned to hate mowing the lawn.
One of the best things about having your own kids is passing on the pain and misery you felt as a child. Naturally, this means I make my kids mow the lawn, except thanks to inflation, they make twenty bucks for mowing our tiny square of grass. It’s a shame, really, for my wallet and for my boys. If they had the right ambition and a big enough yard, they could be training for the National Lawn Mower Racing Championships.
Since 1992, dedicated mowers have been training and competing in this 100% serious competition, racking up some wild “mowments” along the way. Lawn mower racing can be an expensive sport, with racers spending upwards of $10,000 on a mower alone. (Blades are removed from the lawn mowers for safety, of course.) The current season is already underway and airs on ESPN2, so check the schedule, head to your local speedway, and cheer for such “Lawnstars” as Weedy Gonzales, Blading Saddles, Turfinator, Sodzilla, and Mr. Mowjangles.
As for me, I’ll be sitting on a lawn chair with my feet up, drinking an iced-tea and heckling my boys as they push that mower across the grass. Feel free to join me some time – as they say, the “mow” the merrier.
Happy Monday,
Mary
