Broken Lawn Mower
Last year, when the power mower was broken and wouldn't run, I kept
hinting to my husband that he ought to get it fixed, but somehow the
message never sank in. Finally I thought of a clever way to make the
point.
When my husband arrived home that day, he found me seated in the
tall grass, busily snipping away with a tiny pair of sewing scissors.
He watched silently for a short time and then went into the house.
He was gone only a few moments when he came out again. He handed me a
toothbrush. "When you finish cutting the grass," he said, "you might
as well sweep the sidewalks."