The Law of the Jungle

I think I’m cheating on my lawn guy.

He showed up the other day to cut my grass and it didn’t take but a minute for me to see the betrayal register on his face.  “That’s another guy’s mulch.  And the bushes are trimmed.  Wait, are those new window well covers?”

I hid inside.  I wanted to run into the yard blurting out, “It was just a one-time thing.  He used to take care of my leaves and only came by to say hi and unload some extra mulch.  He’s no one.  Really.  I didn’t ask him to.  Please don’t be mad.  I love the way you cut my grass, trim, edge, and sweetly blow all the yard debris into the neighbor’s driveway.  It meant nothing!”

But instead, I stayed inside silently cringing and reminding myself that this is just business, that’s all, the law of the jungle.

When his invoice arrived a week later, I put a little “Thanks!” with a smiley face in the memo line.  It doesn’t matter that we don’t speak the same language.  The look on his face said it all.


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