Prime

Saw a movie several weeks ago called "Prime". On the outside, it appears to be your typical chick flick. However, the more I watched, the more subtleties I found. Then, I wondered why it was titled such. My friend who watched it with me and I discussed the many reasons. I now think it is because that is my life. I do not have a prime life so to speak. Everything in my life apparently needs to be primed. It's been raining here. Raining like a buggar. Raining Buddhist monks at times. This makes the grass grow. Can't mow wet grass. Can't see the neighbors or small children with tall grass. Today, was a reasonable day to do more than just think about mowing the lawn. After baseball practice, I actually got into my yard duds and got out the lawn mower. Wouldn't start. Added gas. Wouldn't start. Cursed. Still wouldn't start. Added oil. Wouldn't start. Called Mom, and she suggested there might be an on/off switch. A switch that did not get turned off last fall???? Still, always doing what my mom tells me, I walked around the damn thing and found a bright red button. Not an on/off switch, but, you guessed it, a Prime button. Pushed it three times. It started. Then died. Pushed the button three more times, and it started each and every time after that. Lawn is mowed, and I found an errant small child.