WORKING TOGETHER NEVER WORKS

Big Bore and I got into another row the other day when we were working on a yard project. All went well during the ground breaking portion...mainly because I stayed inside. (After excavating every inch of the backyard, solo, six years ago, I no longer dig.) So, he got all the digging done, we went to the lumber yard to find a nice 16-foot board for a garden border, got home, and then the fun began.

We had polar opposite ideas about how to lay the rock. It didn't help that I was having one of my famous ear buzzy spells and had difficulty explaining how I thought the job should be done. He was having one of his famous stubborn spells and wouldn't listen. His way or the highway. Rather than get into an argument with me, he quietly walked off while I dramatically announced, "I'll finished the freakin' job myself!!"

Which I did--after I took a pill to calm the buzzes. A back-bending hour later, I got the dirt and rock laid to perfection--about the time the two hilarious neighbor boys, 3 and 4, came by for inspection.

"Hey, Nancy!" the older boy yelled. "Watcha doing?" Anything involving rocks and dirt and water intrigues them, of course.

I let them lay some rock and throw some in the tub of water. Then, it was time for me to play on their male egos. "I sure would like some big, strong boys to help me put all this stuff away." I was exhausted by this time, but sure as heck wasn't going to ask Big Bore for sympathy. I'll take what I can get, toddlers or not.

"Race ya!" the boys would yell every time we made a trip around the house and back to the garage with the supplies--buckets, wood, shovels, etc. They'd dash off, leaving me in the dust. I had no remote inclination to give them even a smidge of competition.

"Don't run!!!" You'll hurt yourselves if you fall!!!" Well, that fell on deaf ears. Selective hearing is a dominant trait in males, you know.

Finally, we were down to a load of dirt to haul back in my handy-dandy cart. It was HEAVY, so we agreed to move it together. No running this time. Push for 1o seconds, rest 10 seconds. Push ten, walk ten, etc.

Eventually we made it to the garage. "Low fives all around! Thanks, guys! See ya later." Off they went to some other adventure, preferably one that didn't involve heavy labor.

Big Bore came back outside when the coast was clear.

"The border looks great. I understand what you were getting at now. You were right," he admitted. "I was getting the cart (rocks) before the horse (dirt)."

That's one thing I'll say about Big Bore. If he's wrong about something, he'll take full credit for being such a total louse. Still, I couldn't have done the job without all his digging, so we'll share credit this time and pat ourselves on the back for a job well done. More or less.