Just the other day one of Simon’s teachers at his daycare was explaining how he was such an observant little guy. Don’t I know it. Because I'd just tried, and failed, to pull one over on him.
See, he likes to mow. Loves it. So he mows with me sometimes, with the push mower, carefully, patiently...slowwwwly. Mostly in the front yard and side yard, where it’s flat and easy and takes forever. But there’s a hill in the back and that’s what we call around my house, a daddy job.
So the other day I had a few minutes after work before Mom and son got home. So I took to the hill with the push mower. It’s steep, and it was a little wet, but I got the job done just in time to come running up to the front yard as my wife pulled in.
So I thought.
Getting out of the car he craned his neck for a better look at me. More like a once over, his searchlight eyes took me in top to bottom. From the sweat on my forehead, down to my spotted shirt, past my dirt-speckled legs and coming to a thoughtful rest at my shoes. I looked down, at the grass clippings and dirt. I was so busted.
“Did you mow, Daddy?”
His tone carried the cadence of a seasoned detective. One who’d seen this kind of thing before and knew how it was going to play out long before I started stammering.
“What, well, I, hill.”
A deep breath. Another long, appraising stare. Up and down, up down. Then he was off, in search of more evidence. By then I was tired, having walked the dogs and tackled the hill, and I was kind of hoping he’d want to take part in a less aerobic activity. No luck there, he hit that hill on a mission, stopping at the backyard with me catching up, trying to explain about Daddy jobs and the dangers of gas powered engines and mowing hills at precarious angles.
“Why is the mower out, Daddy?”
I half expected him to touch test the engine to see if it was warm. I looked up to my wife, smiling. Both of us thinking the same thing....
How are we ever going to pull one over on this kid?