Uncle comes over the next day, puts the battery on a charger and gets everything taken care of. He, darn it, starts the mower and puts Dad on it to mow the front yard. Sigh. Okay. Uncle leaves, and I try to keep an eye on Dad. Take a moment to go to the laundry room. Stop hearing mower. Damn.
Sure enough, Dad took the blasted thing back down in the field again, and got it stuck in the same exact spot as yesterday. I couldn't get it started again and figured battery was dead again. On way back to house, I tell Dad he can't mow the back field anymore. I don't think it sank in a bit.
Dad was so exhausted he took a nap. I was so irritated I decided to leave the mower where it was until the next day. Outta sight - outta mind. Late in the day, though, the neighbor kindly offered to bring it back up because we had rain and storms predicted. He got it into the workshop on the sly. Thank you, thank you!
I fully expect to have many arguments with Dad over this. So be it. We can't keep on like this.
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