When our lawn mower wouldn't run, my wife kept hinting to me that I should
get it fixed. But, somehow I always had something else to take care of
first; the truck, the car, playing golf -- always something more important
to me.

Finally she thought of a clever way to make her point. When I arrived home
one day, I found her seated in the tall grass, busily snipping away with a
tiny pair of sewing scissors. I watched silently for a short time and then
went into the house.

I was gone only a minute, and when I came out again I handed her a
toothbrush. I said, "When you finish cutting the grass, you might as well
sweep the driveway."

The doctors say I will walk again, but I'll always have a limp.