Yesterday, my husband attempted to tame the jungle that should be our yard.

It involved jump-starting our riding lawn mower. And then he mowed the ditches.

I was worried about him mowing our lawn, so while he was mowing the ditches, I went outside and tried to convince him to let me do it instead. He was mowing a ditch, his weight on the far side of the lawn mower seat. He tried to hide, but I saw anyway that his hand was on the back of the lawn mower seat keeping his rear end from actually touching the lawn mower seat. He was not comfortable.

Because, I think my husband broke his butt.

I don’t know for sure because he refuses to go to the doctor. Let’s just say that last Saturday, we were outside, and he was doing something he shouldn’t have been doing. The result was he landed on his butt, hard. But, brave man that he is, he stood right up and gave the illusion he was OK. So, I did what I needed to do, which was go inside and use the bathroom. When I came back out, he was on his knees, and I caught him before he could hide the pain showing on his face.

He was fine. That’s what he kept saying. I’m fine. I’m fine. But whenever he thought I wasn’ t looking, he grimaced. And whenever he had to actually move to sit down and/or stand up, he tried to distract me into looking in a different direction. I asked him how many times he thought he’d have to say, “I’m fine,” before I would believe him.

But what does this have to do with a jungle?

Our yard is overgrown. Remember all the time we’ve been spending at Little League fields? And then we had lots of rain. The result meant our yard was no longer tame. It had grown wild, and it was well past time to mow. Although we had just mowed, but grass grows FAST. So, hubby was willing to sit his sore butt on a lawn mower in order to tame our yard.

After hubby refused to let me relieve him on the mower, he managed to get most of our front yard mowed. And then he forced a child to replace him on the mower. He limped into the house and carefully lowered himself onto the couch. He’s fine, by the way. Just fine. Really. Pay no attention to the grunts, groans and facial expressions of pain.

You know that guy they made a movie about who swung through the trees? No, I don’t mean Tarzan. I was thinking of George. Remember, George kept swinging into the trees. Ouch. So yes, we have a jungle, and I might even go so far to suggest George may be in our jungle too. Just look at him swing into that tree, but you don’t need to worry. He’s fine.

Thanks for playing.