No lie...I was mowing the grass (which I happen to really like doing. Talk about getting your aggression out! You're murdering grass! It's fabulous!) and a guy drove by, stopped his car, and said disapprovingly, "It's a shame your husband makes you do that."
WHAT???? What? Do I look like an indentured servant? I am no feminist, but is it really akin to being kept in a cage and beaten when your husband says, "Hey, you want to mow the grass? Go for it."
And anyway, I come from a handy family. (Okay, if you know my family, please stop laughing. Maybe I should say I come from a family who can build entire businesses based on the assumption that others are handy.)
Whatever. I can snake a toilet and not ruin my manicure. I can fix a garbarge disposal with a j-wrench (okay, I'm not sure if that's its real name, or if someone was screwing with me since my name starts with a "j.") But anyway.
Dude. Come on. It's mowing the grass. It's okay. I'll burn my bra for you, but first I have to take out the trash.
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