When our lawn mower broke and wouldn't run, my wife kept hinting to me that I should get it fixed but somehow I always had something else to take care of first - the shed, the boat, making beer, whatever. Always something more important to me.
Finally she thought of a clever way to make her point.
When I arrived home one day, I found her seated in the tall grass, busily snipping away with a tiny pair of sewing scissors. I watched silently for a short time and then went into the house. I was gone only a minute, and when I came out again I handed her a toothbrush. I said, "When you finish cutting the grass, you might as well sweep the driveway."
The doctors say I will walk again, but I will always have a limp.
