Nearly exhausted, I gave one last mighty pull. A loud mechanical growl assaulted my eardrums. Fumes from the freshly started engine spiraled skyward like smoke up a chimney. The stench burned my nose, making tears well up in my eyes. Smiling with satisfaction, I pushed a lever forward, and the tiller’s sharp metal blades eagerly leapt ahead.
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Weed Whipped!
With great expertise, I swirled my wet mop in big loopy figure eight’s across the kitchen floor. The sticky Kool Aid spot next to the refrigerator and the red spaghetti sauce speckles in front of the sink faded and disappeared. Leaning on my mop handle I inspected my work feeling like the star of a Lysol commercial.
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