Yard rat

I think I'm turning into one of those angry old men who do really manly stuff. Constant sweat stains. Grunting. Fixing things all the damn time.

Today's testosterone drenched agenda included such high adventure as:

• Hitting the gym for a couple of hours, working shoulders and legs
• Getting a short haircut with The Boy
• Eating a triple Whooper for lunch
• Mowing the yard without a shirt (likely blinding the neighbors)
  
• Drilling holes and poisoning several stumps with Stump Revenge
  
• Pulling up two more wheelbarrows of roots
• Saved a baby turtle that almost found itself severed by my reciprocating saw
  
• Gouging up two small stumps over by the garden

I was caked with mud. Sweat had drenched my shirt. It ran down my shorts, to my knees. I continue to have a new found appreciation for my forefathers. I'm exhausted, and I was using POWERTOOLS!

By the end of the summer, I'll be a card-carrying yard rat.