Is it More Fun in a Muumuu?

A few months before we were married, Rophone began having these terrible nightmares. So horrific, he would awaken in a cold sweat. The fear of commitment was really getting to him. It wasn't me he was afraid of committing to, mind you-- it was a lawn mower. 

Rophone hates mowing the lawn, and he knew that getting married meant that he would eventually live in a house, and that meant having to buy a lawn mower (and then actually using it!).  So, he began having these nightmares (ie. heading straight to Sears from the wedding to buy a lawn mower while still in our wedding attire--like I said, HORRIFIC!).

When Rophone was a kid, he was "THE ONE" when it came to lawn mowing.  Even though he has a brother and 5 sisters, the job always fell on his shoulders. His brother was excused because of awful hay fever, and the girls were excused because, well, they were girls. That left the job to Rophone, and he knew if he didn't get it done before his dad got outside that they would spend the whole day in the yard doing projects found by his dad while he mowed. 

Because of this lack of excitement when it comes to mowing the lawn, sometimes the job can be left undone for awhile. In the house we're currently in we have an elderly next-door neighbor who puts Rophone to shame. Not only elderly, but a woman to boot. She mows her lawn every week without fail. Every Monday morning in fact, BEFORE 7 AM (so if I seem a little cranky on Mondays you know who's to blame)! The best part is that she does it in a muumuu.  

Here is a picture of the neighbor taken through my dirty bedroom window this morning:

 

Then I ask myself, "Is it more fun in a muumuu?" Would Rophone enjoy the job more with the morning breeze fluffing up his dress? I dare say that is a question I'll never get an answer to.