This morning, as Eugene was mowing the lawn, Alex wanted to follow him outside. That meant I had to go along to supervise him. We bought him a tricycle yesterday, so naturally he wanted to play with it and go to the park. (He's still getting used to pedaling instead of pushing himself along.) Unfortunately, Alex has recently developed a strong fear of bugs, so he got panicked and insisted on going back to the house. Then only Daddy would do to comfort him, but Eugene hadn't finished. So I did the only thing a mother could do: I offered to finish mowing the lawn so Eugene could take care of Alex.
I've only mowed a lawn once before, when I was a teenager. The yard was steeply sloped, and my foot slipped, nearly going under the lawnmower. I wasn't hurt, but I wasn't in a hurry to try mowing the lawn again. Eugene had to show me how to operate the lawnmower before bringing Alex inside. It was a bit tricky to steer at first, especially around objects like the trees and the swingset. I also left a swath by the side of the house undone after turning off the lawnmower, and although I tried, I couldn't pull the cord hard enough to restart the mower. Eugene came out later to finish up and do the edges, but he appreciated the assistance.
I suppose if I were to apply this incident to writing, I would say sometimes it's worth trying something you're not comfortable with and to be careful not to let your project get away from you. Since it's late, the only witty thing I can come up with is that the grass is always greener on the other side of keyboard.