Father's Day infidelities.

I fell in love over the weekend.

Yeah, I know, it was Father’s Day and everything, generally not a day when one's mind begins to wander out of your marriage. But one’s emotions don’t really take into account the calendar, and once I ran my hands over her body, climbed on and rode for about hour, my heart was swept away. Once I was done, I sat beside her in the afterglow, smoking a cigarette and letting blissful thoughts creep into my head, trying to find a way to keep her for myself, for alas, she belongs to another man.

It’s not what you’re thinking – get your mind out of the gutter for a second, OK? Pervert.

My brother-in-law showed up at the house yesterday afternoon, hauling a piece of heavy machinery with him. (And isn’t that how all great love stories begin? I believe that’s how Bogie and Bacall got started.)

I thought to myself, “… the hell?”

Wife went outside to greet him, and I threw on some shoes and took Son to the door, since he goes bananas over any sort of heavy machinery, especially tractors. Said machinery was a 1970ish Cub Cadet “belly mower.” I’d never heard the term before, but what it entails is a tractor with a mower attachment. As my brother-in-law prepared to put a new belt on our rider, Wife said, “You want to climb on and try it out? …”

Insanely, I thought she was talking to my 2-year-old son. Who, naturally, didn’t answer.

“… or are you just going to stand there and look at me?” she completed the thought.

I pointed to myself and mouthed the word, “Me?”

I should probably add here that I’m not really much of a heavy-machinery type of guy, and that, given the awful luck I’ve had as of late with anything gasoline-powered, I was shocked and awed by the prospect of getting on this monster of a mower.

I hopped on, drove it around for a little bit – “Oh, by the way, the brakes don’t work,” I was told just as I put it into gear – and mowed our side yard in about 10 minutes. It’s a job that usually takes about 20-30 minutes with our regular riding mower, and 45 minutes to a hour with our push mower.

“I want one!” I yelled to my wife, cackling with laughter at every pass.

Sadly, I had to get off of it for awhile – the belt started squeaking pretty badly as I started on the back two acres of our lot. "Crap!" I thought. "I'm breaking his mower!"

I drove it back up to where my brother-in-law, wife and son were sitting. Wife’s brother hopped back on, raised the deck and drove off toward where I had stopped mowing. He mowed that part for about a half-hour or so, then when I fetched him a beer and took it back to him, he said, “You wanna drive it some more?” (Does a bear ......)

So I did. The back two acres – normally a three-hour job – was knocked down in a little over an hour. A 60-inch cut really cuts down on the time taken to mow. And he left it there for me to use this week. Yay! (Such a manly expression, no?)

I fell in love yesterday, and I want one for myself now, even though I look slightly out of place on it, kind of like a cat in a dress, only more ridiculous.