Our lawnmower broke down, and for weeks my wife kept reminding me to fix it.
Every time she asked, I somehow managed to find something “more important” to do.
One afternoon, I stepped outside and couldn’t believe what I saw.
There was my wife, kneeling in the middle of our overgrown lawn, carefully trimming the grass… with a tiny pair of scissors.
I watched her for a moment without saying a word.
Then I turned around, walked back into the house, and returned about a minute later.
She looked up, expecting I’d finally brought the lawnmower.
Instead, I handed her a toothbrush.
She frowned.
I smiled and said, “When you finish cutting the grass… you might as well use this to sweep the driveway.”
The doctors say I’ll walk normally again someday…
But they’ll never be able to do anything about the limp.
