"Here’s hoping for a work-free Father’s Day" by: Mike Reddell

   I’m just plum worn out from celebrating Mother’s Day – MaLinda style.
   Not that it was my day to celebrate, but I was hoping MaLinda would want to spent the occasion basking in the love from her children and husband and perhaps relax and enjoy movie watching, or some such entertainment.
   Oh no, she had yard work plans for her day, literally in the sun.
   So, she tells me that I don’t have to do anything. I can go inside and read and watch movies…by myself.
   Yea, that would work well, on Mother’s Day, while she’s outside slaving over whatever.
   Over the span of years, I’ve learned that’s not a good game plan to go inside and relax, by myself.
   Since somewhere in the 1950s, I’ve been an out-sized, non-fan of yard work.
   Once, when I was 11 or so, I was out chopping tumbleweeds behind our home in New Mexico.
   I wasn’t happy. I got to complaining loudly and banging the hoe down hard on the hard-baked soil.
   Not only did my mother hear my unhappy work soliloquy, I broke the handle of the hoe in my not-so joyful endeavor, right before I turned around to see her.
   In happy tales about motherhood, perhaps some mother somewhere would have smiled, shook her head and gently rebuked my behavior.
   I got what I had coming, considering the offense and it wasn’t pretty. And there were more tools for chopping weeds in the garage.
   I didn’t have that urge Sunday, since garden equipment costs money out of my pocket now.
   And my track record around here for riding mowers isn’t great.
   Now, I ride our aged mower hoping that nothing breaks down – or worse, something catches afire. You know, as in spontaneous combustion.
   MaLinda loves yard work. She’s happy doing it, even on Mother’s Day.
   Father’s Day is coming up. I can assure you that my plans don’t hinge on garden implements or mowers.
   It will be my luck to get a hedge trimmer that day.

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