So the Mister gets in at nearly dark last night. We had tremendous storms (I love 'em!) and he was on the bike, so he had to dodge raindrops to get home.
After he ate dinner, I asked if he were going to close up the chickens or if he wanted me to do it. He "offered" to take care of it.
When he got back in, I was in the bathtub soaking my old body.
"You mowed the yard," he commented.
"With the walk behind mower??"
"Musta been hard."
"Not really," I flippantly replied. "I mowed thirty minutes, cried for ten, had a glass of water and started back again."
"Well, it worked."