recently, my family sadly had to say goodbye to our faithful lawnmower. after serving us well for so long, usually under the supervision of my mom. with some smoke and odd noises, it finally shred it's last victims of grass and rolled to a final stop. to the dismay of our suburbanite neighbors, a replacement for our old green beast was on the back burner of priorities.
today they were pleased with the new arrival to the family. i was sitting inside when i heard the car roll up. steven(what i call my mom) was home and in an alright mood and we talked over lunch, with a quick blip about a new mower. realizing that a request for my help was coming on fast, i tried to clear my plate and exit the premise as quickly and quietly as possible.
the attempt was hopeless.
steven was telling me she needed help getting the mower out of the car because, no shit it was too heavy for her. i walked outside and waited for her to helpout in the situation that she was treating like a mision from the government; taking her time and not rushing. given the fact that it was around 90degrees and i was standing on our driveway, my body urged me to get some proper footwear as i rapidly lost layers of skin from my soles.
alreadly standing at the trunk admiring the collage of ns, sox, and school stickers that come together on our santa fe. getting ancy as my toes winced in pain, i figured i might as well open the trunk, having one less thing to do once me and steven were both at the car.
i firmly grasped the handle and pulled, immediately feeling pain.
within that moment i felt immense pain. the actions that had transpired were ones that were confusing and painful. i had opened the trunk and immediately faced with a large red mower. apparently my mom loaded the mower into the car with the mindset of an 8 year old; one of which took the box of eggo's and jammed them in the freezer, knowing that the next person to open it will be faced with an avalanche of frozen foods. except i wasn't getting hit with french fries or frozen peas, i was getting hit with a load of horsepower and spinning blades. i had barely cracked the trunk before i was aching in my hand from being run over by the mower. it was like the mower went all running of the bulls on me and i was doomed.
i look over and see steven, completely horrified. i assume she's wondering about my physical state, but am quickly corrected as she yells at me for dropping her brand new mower. i only stayed to listen for about 20seconds of her rant beform telling her "i'm glad you're concerned about your mower when it charged on me instead of asking me if i was okay." and sauntered back into the house, quickly logging onto ns to de-fume from the situation.
all in all i still pissed at steven for her unmotherly response. especially because the two effects are two things that obviously didn't affect her. i'm really not sure why she's mad at me. i mean, she didn't get hit by mower and i did exactly what she asked.
helped her get the mower out of the trunk.