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  • Writer's pictureMichelle Haskell

HE FINALLY POPPED THE QUESTION //

Over the weekend, my husband and I reached a new level in our marriage.

He finally popped the question.

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“Would you like to mow the grass?”

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Okay, let me back up and preface this by saying, when we are talking about mowing the grass, we are talking about a few acres and the granddaddy of them all… a 61”, zero turn, leather seated, HUSQVARNA.


I’m not sure if the green grass gods finally spoke to him or if he actually trusts me after the last eight faithful years, but.. he finally popped THE question.


He asked if I wanted to mow the grass.


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In response, I naturally did what any guy would do. I put on the oldest pair of tennis shoes I owned, grabbed a cold one out of the fridge, and said “**** yeah! Let’s go!” (I’ll let you decide what four letter word that was.)


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And let me tell you, it was glorious. And empowering. It was everything I dreamed of and more.


It was like laying out by the pool without the water. Seriously. For two hours, I got to cruise around jamming out while being productive AND getting a suntan. Two hours!


And moms, listen up! This was the best part... I didn’t have to hear my kids holler mom. Or have anyone touch me. Or pass out snacks. Or wipe any butts. For a whole TWO HOURS!!!


It. Was. Incredible.


It was everything I didn’t know I needed.


//


Husbands, trust me on this one… if you love your wives, let them mow. You’ll thank me later.

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And now I understand why my mom did the mowing all those years.


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