J and I have owned our own home for about four-and-a-half years (not the same home, but we have owned nonetheless). And do you know how many times I have mowed the lawn? Four. Twice in Erie. And twice here.
And how many times will I mow it in the future? Zero. Because somehow (with my vast wealth of lawn care knowledge), I managed to kill the lawnmower. DEAD. KAPUT.
I thought I was being nice. I thought I was helping out. But no. Instead of allowing J to spend the afternoon watching the Patriots (and out of the heat, might I add), I cost us a few hundred dollars. FANTASTIC!
Let's just say I won't be offering up my green thumb any time soon.