It's been a few years since I've made a spring time visit, and in that period, Dad tossed his old mower and got one of those zero-turn radius mowers.I've never driven it, or anything like it, before.
Last week, I was eager to give that thing a whirl, with Dad warning me to "Leave it alone so I can show you how it works".
Yeah,right.
Dad went back inside, and when the coast was clear, I jump on, fiddled around with the levers and within a few minutes I was zipping down the driveway.
Man, this was even funner than it looked.
After a few minutes of that, it was time to start cutting some grass. After figuring out how to engage the blades, off I went again.
Too cool.
Around some trees, back toward the garage.
Accelerating just before I approached a wooden bench, turned sharp, and... smash.
I had just clipped the bench, breaking it into a few large chunks.
Damn.
A hammer, some nails, and a few minutes later, bench fixed, I was back in the saddle.
Zipping around, having a fun by the acre.Yeehaw!
I noticed I had missed a spot near the fence. Forgetting that this thing had no brake pedal, I sped up to it, and before I went crashing through the barbed-topped hog wire, stepped on the brake pedal that wasn't there.
And kept going.
You can imagine what happened next.
A few minutes later, I walked inside to clean up, blood running down both arms. Dad looks up, "What'd you do?"
Nothin.
"Why you bleeding?"
Ticks. Big ones.
"Bullshit."
Tell ya later. But your yard looks nice.
"You don't listen, huh?"
Went back out, rummaged through the shed, and came up with a few yards of baling wire and wire cutters. Half hour later, I had the fence all stitched up.
Just as I was putting stuff away, Dad came out to see what was going on.
I explained the situation(s), to which he all he said was : "Stay away from my tractor."
Maybe next time.
7 comments:
You sound like a little boy in a room full of Tonka trucks :)
I love mowing our lawn. Have you ever noticed that beer tastes better with the smell of freshly cut grass in the background?
kids these days.
..............sigh...........
Chills.
Somehow I have the feeling this scene was merely the echo of eleventy dozen similar incidents when you were growing up.
If you want to mow my lawn, be my guest. I don't have a zero-turn mower, but I can hook you up with a nice Troy-Bilt with a 6.5 HP Briggs & Stratton engine.
jade: i used to, and hope to once again. although, i can only imagine how my ride would have turned out if i had beer.
chills: never too old to have a good time.
NW: dad had a rule. never touch his tools. and he never let me near things like chain saws or table saws. to this day, i still dont know how to weild a chain saw very well.
mark: zero turn, or nothing. i'm hooked. where i grew up, nobody had a riding mower. not enough yard to justify it.
snerk.
My parents have several utility vehicles (I think four) ... my smallest kid figured out where the keys were and how to work them around, as I recall, 9 months. Luckily he was not strong enough/didn't have long enough arms to take advantage ... and we have since deliberately and conscientiously (and successfully) taught him that if he finds keys he should immediately take them and give them to Baba or Papa (or, in a pinch, Mamma).
A couple more notches of testosterone around age 5 or 6 though, and I'm sure the lesson will go out the window. I'm trying to conscientiously teach my parents and all their farmhands to Not Leave The Keys in the Vehicles ;)!!! DOH!
LOL, you can't make stuff like that up. I'm betting you had done that when your Dad was a few years younger, he'd a clipped you back side of the head!
Post a Comment