I threw a temper tantrum in my driveway this evening. I am not proud of it. Quite frankly, I’m embarrassed, and my neighbors are probably a wee bit concerned about that crazy, frazzled mother of five boys who can’t manage to crank a lawnmower.

I mean, seriously! It’s a brand-stinkin’-new mower. I bought it just a month or two ago; it’s been used maybe five hours, tops. It’s a simple, no frills mower. You push the bubble three times, hold the handle tight and pull the cord. Vroom, that’s it. Not tonight. No – tonight, it cranked and immediately died. Then, when I pulled the cord again (b/c you aren’t supposed to push the bubble again), it just sputtered.

Did I mention that I loathe yardwork? Oh, yes – even more than dusting. Ok, perhaps equal to dusting. I would rather clean the bathroom than mow the yard. The only reason why I bought a new mower is b/c I didn’t want to continue paying someone to do it, the fact that it’s good exercise and my oldest son is nearly old enough to do it for me.

Finally, after several tries and even pushing the bubble a couple of more times, I threw up my hands and growled. We’re talking Jacob Black-esque growl. I shook my fists and yanked on the pull cord unnecessarily hard (to no avail, of course). As immature as that was, that’s not even the worst of it. What I’m most ashamed of is that I called my yard stupid. “I just want to mow the stupid yard!” I hollered at the inanimate machine.

I’ll pay for my outburst when my shoulder is stiff and painful in the morning, but I already feel bad about it. It’s just a lawnmower, Angela – get a grip. How could you call the gorgeous yard in front of this never-believed-I’d-live-in-a-place-this-nice house that you should be thanking God for with every breath instead of being so prideful stupid?

My sense of gratitude got an attitude check tonight. At least I have a yard to mow and my folks close enough to borrow their mower, if need be. My stepdad even came over to try to help, and he thinks that the fuel line is clogged or the fuel pump is busted. So, here’s the next conundrum: I don’t know where I put the receipt. I’m going to call the customer service number tomorrow for the mower manufacturer and see if there’s some trick they can walk me through to fix the problem; otherwise, I’m going to need to either take it back or have it repaired. I don’t want to have to pay more to fix it. I should keep up with important things like receipts; I have no excuse.

Tonight was not my shining moment as a mature, responsible adult.

“Pride only breeds quarrels, but wisdom is found in those who take advice.” – Proverbs 13:10 (NIV)