Lawn care must be lucrative these days. Ask little Larry, the kid who cuts my grass.
Here I was, pounding out copy to beat the band a few days ago, when I happened to glance out my window, just as the entrepreneurial adolescent cruised by on his souped-up Deere.
I did a double-take at the green blur.
Who wouldn’t? Apparently, the kid was jamming to tunes, with headphone cords dangling from both ears. At the same time, he was steering the mulch-munching monster with one hand, while texting at full tilt on his smart phone with the other.
Geez, his phone’s a whole lot nicer than mine, I thought. How much are we paying that kid?
Larry bounced along like a happy Hobbit on the seat of his ride-on mower, wired with enough technology to run a small company.
I’m in the wrong business, I decided, returning to my news deadline.
Just then, the wee lad hit a bump and veered just a little too close to my perennial garden.
“Watch out for the begonias, Frodo!” I cried, although I am nearly certain the miniscule mowing mogul missed my warning.
He did not, however, miss my begonias. I choked back a sob to see a half-dozen sweet and innocent pink blooms bite the dust. In an instant, the kid gave dead-heading a whole different meaning, right there in my front yard.
If little Larry comes back next week in a virtual reality mask, his days of tending to my grass will be quickly curtailed.
Riding Lawn Mower by SeppVei
Public Domain/Wikipedia Commons Photos
Pink Begonias by BotBin
Creative Commons Licensing/ Wikipedia Commons Photos
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