A Summer of Deception

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  1. #1

    A Summer of Deception

    A Summer of Deception, by Bob Brown

    I was comfortable with the way things were and saw no reason to change them, my wife of course did not agree.

    My wife had been a stay at home mom, she worked in our construction business, doing the books and occasionally working in the field. She never missed a game while my kids played sports or a function at school, she even had the minivan, she was the perfect suburban wife and mother. With college finished and the kids on their own, it was now just us, and we entered a new phase in our life.

    Linda was soon bored of being home, she worked in her office upstairs but was tired of being by herself. She had decided to go back to work, spend some time with others and build up our savings; two kids in college brought that down to something we only talked about, in past tense terms.

    My wife was a worker, busy every second of the day to the point of sometimes being annoying. She managed to take care of most of the household stuff, plus a lot more while I worked. One of her jobs over the years was mowing the lawn. I told her that the three plus hours she spent pushing the mower around the yard, would make sure she always looked good in a dress. There is no scientific proof of this, but I have been known to just make stuff up once a while when it suited me.

    I would love to say that we discussed dividing up some of the work around the house, now that she was working—that would be a lie! I was informed, that after 20 plus years that it is now my turn to mow the lawn. She said it would make me look good in shorts. I did not argue, I would have liked to, but I did not have a leg to stand on. My legs were were soon to look better in shorts.

    I did start to mow the lawn one afternoon, a bright sunny day, perfect temps for doing yard work. The lawn and the mower both beckoned me. I started, I could not finish… it seemed so pointless, such a waste of time and energy. Yes, the lawn always looked great when it was done—but there has to be a better way. Being a businessman one of the things you always keep track of is your time and your costs and profit per hour. I could not spend three hours mowing grass, it was not good for the bottom line. I made a simple business decision, I would buy a riding lawn mower. My fifteen minutes of pushing this beast on wheels in circles were enough to convince me, that this was inefficient, a waste of my valuable talent.

    Tim the Tool Man Taylor would be proud of me, do his little grunt and look at me with approval. One hour later I was the proud owner of a 62 inch zero turn radius lawn mower with 27 horsepower, it had a headlight and everything. It was so big I needed the trailer to bring it home in. Tim would be proud.

    I mowed the lawn in 35 minutes, I did it in high gear, zipping around the yard, I was pretty proud of myself, problem solved. When I finished, I was met with a new dilemma. Where did I store this thing now that I am finished? It took up too much room to put in the shop. I had brought it home in the enclosed motorcycle trailer and figure why not just make the trailer the new home for the mower. I patted myself on the back for being so bright.

    This was soon to become a summer of deception and lies, all of perpetrated by a man who had no desire to look good in shorts.

    Like all lies it started out innocent enough, no one was hurt, so it really was just a white lie, not completely un-true, just not accurate.

    My wife came home that evening and raved at how nice the lawn looked, she then quickly added that since I had worked so hard, she would treat me to an ice cream cone. I rubbed my back, doing the best to elicit some sympathy, while holding a smile back. I kept my mouth shut, and figured I would tell her about the new mower after ice cream.

    A good man would have said more, said something, but he wouldn’t have gotten ice cream. A good man could not be bought off with an ice cream cone, even if it was a large, and it was a sugar cone.

    I am a bad man.
    I am so bad that I let this go on... all summer long.

    The mower tucked in its trailer, neatly out of sight after each mowing. The ritual of being treated to dinner or an ice cream cone kept me quiet, oh sometimes I felt guilty and was going to tell her—after we went out of course. Each time it got a little funnier, a little harder for me to tell her… I am a bad man.

    It all came to an end one Saturday afternoon. Sitting at my bench, in the shop working, she marched in, a scowl on her face.

    "Do you know what I just found?"

    By her demeanor, I figured it would have to be a stack of porno at least four feet high.

    I offered her a shy "What" I learned long ago never to answer questions you do not know the answer to.

    "In the trailer, how long have you had that?"

    I will offer that we are still happily married but no longer go out for ice cream after the lawn is mowed.

    God hates a coward Revelation 21:8

    “Good writin' ain't necessarily good readin'.”

    Hidden Content ,

    To encourage and facilitate "me"

  2. #2
    Sounds like something I would do. Hahahaha....
    Her: I love my computer! All of my friends are in there!
    Me: Yeah, I was thinking the same thing about my freezer...
    Her: What?
    Me: What?

  3. #3
    I used to only use a reel mower. Broke my boy in on that masochistic muscle builder. Ankle-high grass? Makes a man tough quick-like.
    I eventually saw the utility of a quality Honda mower. Push / walk behind. NOT self-propelled. But I still miss the woosh woosh woosh of the reel mower.
    Someday, I may "invest" on a sit-on-my-arse bloated beast mower. But my time just ain't as valuable as a decent cardiovascular grass demolition session. That smell.

    But seriously. How many cup holders? Dolby 5.1 Surround Sound? Lumbar support?
    What do ya get these days as standard equipment? Think I'd better check my FICO score.

    "Now let's all agree, never to be creative again."


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