There is a New Kid at Our House

He looks just like the other eleven year old,

the one that lived here last week,

but instead of whining about being bored

this kid pesters me for paying yard work.

He has already weeded the corner garden bed

taken up a career in invasive mint abatement

washed all the main floor windows

and cleared fallen twigs from the south yard.

So, today we dragged out the red gas mower

and commenced power tool training.

No sandals, put on your boots!

Gas goes here, check oil there, 

set the choke like this.

Hold down the red bar, 

grab the black tee handle

and...

PULL! ... PULL! ...PULL!

OK, let me pull.

Pu...pu...PULL!  Brrraaaahhhhhhhhh!

The vibrations runs up both of our arms,

mine around him from behind,

I try not to step on his heels

as we stumble along together

him learning, me relearning,

to operate this growling, grass eating beast.

It’s really too heavy for him to push

but using the power drive to the wheels

makes it hard for him to control.

Back and forth and around in the heat

(thank goodness for the overcast!)

Once I do the fiddly bits you get 

in a country yard, 

odd shapes around woodpiles, 

parked snowmachines

flower beds and a huge trampoline,

he practices turning corners, 

emptying the grass bag

and overlapping swaths 

in the central rectangle.

Then, that’s enough. We quit.

Neither of us want to tackle the bits 

around the garden and back of the house.

We’ll leave the rest for the grown men.

I don’t want to discourage the new kid

but I’m thinking 

next summer will be soon enough

for him to try mastering the mower.

We’ll find other work for Mr. Motivated.  

It’s not like we are running out 

of weeds to pull!