...I suspected as much before, but it has been proven.
One of the problems with having all my boys out of the country for more than a week, is that the grass does not stop growing in their absence. The lawn needed to be mowed the day before the guys left, and Patrick "forgot" to do it. It's been several days now, and our lawn is decidedly scraggley.
My mother and I decided that it would make sense for me to just buck up and do some physical labor, rather than paying someone else to come do the lawn. We knew that the job would be difficult. Our mower used to be self-propelled, but at some point that function disappeared, leaving us with an extra-heavy push-mower. I, however, didn't grow up with three brothers for nothing, so I headed outside this morning, thinking to myself, "If they can do it, I can do it."
I have been disillusioned.
I made it through about 1/5 of our yard before giving up, my wrists aching and my head about to pop. I came stumbling into the house, and my mother decided that it was time to give up and call someone else. Now, I am sitting in a comfy chair, freshly showered and wearing my girly-girliest skirt, with a new appreciation of Patrick, who has to wrestle with that mower on a regular basis.