J likes to mow the grass.
“Honey, do you think the grass looks like it needs cut?”
“Uhmmm…well…I don’t think the tractor would like the snow piles still left.”
“Oh…” Sigh. “I guess not. I’ll wait a little longer.”

Finally the grass looked long enough, the snow was gone, and J had a good excuse. “Do you think I should mow the field so it looks nice for Easter?”

“Sure, Honey.”

So we went out to be specators in the great and glorious moment.

It must be something with the male gender.

Or maybe it’s  just passed down through generations.

Whatever it is, my son fell asleep on the tractor after J mowed more than just the field.

But I guess it does look kind of nice.

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