What we got

Turns out my 11 year old, Michael, missed the memo on getting me iDevices and high fives and landed squarely in the middle. In a moment of "this doesn't sound like a gift, but it's actually an awesome gift," he offered to let me teach him to mow the lawn for Father's Day. Recognizing that this was super-thoughtful and not the norm, I immediately assumed the worst.

Of course by assumed the worst, I don't mean that questioned the motives of my little man. I questioned his butt. As in, I thought "just how stinking far is his 8 pound, 6 ounce caboose gonna be able to push a lawn-mower in 95 degree heat with his spindly arms and his get-that-kid-a-sandwich frame?" as I pictured myself mowing the other 98% of my lawn after his stamina gave out. As they almost always are, my instincts were total crap.

The whole thing was a much sweatier affair than this picture makes it appear.

I spent about ten minutes talking him through the setup (I did pour the gas in myself) and safety ("your siblings appendages won't grow back") and we started mowing. I did the first couple stripes to get him a decent corner to turn in and let the mower stop. Much to my surprise, he was able to start it himself before he started moving. Then he mowed. And mowed. And mowed. And then he mowed the front yard, too. Did he miss a patch here and then? Sure. Did he finish the job with his scrawny little build? Definitely.

So I guess, in the end, the gift wasn't so much the lesson. Or the lawn. Or all of the future lawns (which is AWESOME!). I think the real gift was watching my oldest just impress the living bejeezus out of me by doing way more than I expected he would be able to as a gift to me.

Happy Father's Day.