A few weeks ago, Husby was outside mowing the lawn and remembered that we needed to get the oil changed before the place closed at 5. He looked at his watch and wouldn't you know, it was 4:30. He ran inside and asked if I would go get the oil changed while he finished up outside and I just kind of stood there staring at him like he was a three-eyed monster.
"Errr ... what do you mean? I don't know how to change the oil."
"All you have to do is drive to the place and they will do the rest."
"But ... I don't know how."
"What do you mean you don't know how? Do you know how to drive? Just drive there and they will do the rest, I promise."
"But ... I've never done it before."
"It's not hard, Whitney."
"I don't know where it is."
"It's at so-&-so and yada, you can't miss it."
"But ... I don't know what to do."
"WHITNEY. All you do is drive there and they do the rest."
"I don't know what to tell them or where to park. I like it better when you're with me."
"Can we go tomorrow?"
"Forget it, I'll go!" .... as he jumps in the car and speeds to the oil shop.
I stood there for a minute trying to process what had just happened. If I remember correctly, Husby kept telling me I would be a blessing if I would go to the car shop. A blessing? Since when does he talk like that? Never in my life have I heard him call me a blessing for doing something out of the ordinary. Who was this guy and why was he saying blessing and making me change oil? My head was spinnin'.
I have a bad record with car shops and Husby knows this. Just a few years ago, I brought the car in for a quick fix on something and left with a laundry list of other things they told me "needed" to be done and I approved. Husby had to call and bail me out of that one. I think they took advantage of me because they seemed to be super smiley when I told them to do whatever needed to be done. Ever since then I have a car shop phobia and nearly break out in hives just thinking about entering one.
Husby may have thought that I was going in for a quick oil change, but don't kid yourself, I would have walked out of there with a bill to rival the National Debt. I'm nearly certain I have the word "sucker" tattooed somewhere on my forehead.
Since Husby made a mad dash to the car shop, I decided I would be a good little helper and finish mowing the lawn. It was the least I could do since I wasn't a "blessing" by bookin' it to the oil station. I would be a blessing by mowing. Yeah, that's the ticket.
Being a blessing for one thing cancels out not being a blessing for another ... right? Well, in my mind it does. Regardless, I was on a mission to BLESS.
I put Levi on the trampoline and told him to bounce while Mommy mowed. He stood there with a blank look on his face and said, "Mommy is going to mow?" HA! That should have been my first clue.
I marched on over to the side of the house and stood face to face with the beast. The Push Lawn Mower. First of all, whoever invented the push mower clearly wasn't thinking. The riding mower? Now that is just genius! I feel like the push mower should become extinct ... kind of like the horse and buggy when the automobile hit town. It only makes sense.
But, since we have the prehistoric push mower, then push I would do.
I stood there for a minute trying to figure out what to do, when I spotted the pull cord. "Oh, it's like some of Levi's toys", I thought to myself as I yanked it as hard as physically possible.
I er. I er. This was hard.
I yanked again.
I circled the mower, looking for a magic button.
There wasn't one.
I yanked again.
I mumbled something about it being a thousand degrees.
I mustered up all the strength in my being and yanked with all my might.
"THAT'S IT! Levi, come on! We're going inside!"
I swung myself around in a huff and wouldn't you know, the neighbors across the street were in their yard. Staring. And smiling. I was completely mortified, so I kind of kicked the lawn mower a bit as if to say, "you BROKEN piece of junk", smiled and waved and scurried back into the house.
Husby walked in a little later and I blurted out, "I tried to be a blessing and mow the yard, but your mower is broken!"
He gave me his little sideways grin and gently said, "did you hold down on the lever while you pulled?"
"Errr ... what lever?"
He laughed, quickly finished up the yard and I learned a valuable lesson that day ...
Having a husband who takes care of the "hard stuff" ... it's a BLESSING!
PS. Husby has not used the word "blessing" since this little incident. I am on to him. I think he thought if he whipped out the big guns that it would make me weak in the knees and hop to it. Clearly, it just left me dazed and confused.