The mower

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 truck, the car, playing golf — 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.