Dan recently went to an allergist who injected him all over with various substances and wrote on him with permanent marker. Much to my chagrin, a spot on his arm swelled up to the size of a small grapefruit, which did not to my surprise indicate that he is allergic to grapefruit but rather grass pollen. Seriously doctors are all quacks. They wouldn’t even investigate the grapefruit theory and I promise you his arm looked nothing like grass or pollen, but then, I’m no expert.
So my first question, considering the state of our lawn and the fact that I’m worried I may lose one of our children in there, was, “Should we hire a lawn boy or something?” Dan laughed it off but I am totally serious.
I am certainly capable of mowing the lawn and have done it on occasion, but I can’t do it with the kids present, considering Magoo’s habit of jumping in front of the running vacuum cleaner and trying to shove his hands into the spinning brushes.
Now if I ask Dan to get out and mow the lawn, I feel like I’m sweetly requesting that he head out to war in a land of hundreds of thousands of enemy soldiers, where his death is imminent or he’ll at least face bouts of swelling in unknown regions. He says he’s fine (and DAN! He is fine. Mmmm! MY man.) but I’m not so sure I want to keep exposing him to allergens that make him miserable.
What do you pay a kid to mow your lawn these days? Considering the steep incline in babysitting rates, I have a feeling it’s more than I’d like to shell out.