Also Yesterday...

In the morning before I had my Town Adventures (ahem), we had three huge gravel truckloads of road base dumped on our driveway.  It was wonderful, but it also needed a whole lot of shoveling and raking in order to spread it where it goes.  

I have been blessed with two healthy, strong teenaged boys.  We had one shovel and one rake between the three of us, but we figured it should work well as we would each take a turn with a shovel, then a rake, then take a break, so there would be two people working and one resting at any given time.  

Well, unless you were one of the strong healthy teenaged boys. Then it was more like--work a tiny bit, complain some, pick a fight with the other brother, use energy swinging rake in threatening manner, change to a shovel, continue quibbling, etc. 

I finally gave them a talk about how I was old enough to be a grandmother and they were always flexing their muscles and talking about how strong they were and hey!--does anyone see anything wrong with this picture?!  The strong ones are slacking and whining and the "old, weak one" is working hard without complaint.  They straightened up and finished well while I went inside to get get my skirt all tucked up ready to show the world my lovely black knee socks and legsfrombehind.  

So what happened today? They are experiencing a normal, happy day and I'm so stove up with sore muscles I can barely move.  It hurts to sit and it even hurts to cough. What on earth muscles did I use to rake and shovel??  Either I need to develop some teen muscle mass of the masculine variety (rather doubtful) or limit my strenous exerting to pointing with a delicate finger exactly *where* I want them to do the work.  

I do believe I will take myself up on that offer. Supervisory postion, now filled. Thank you all for applying.  Now go run me a hot bath for my poor sore muscles, would you, Sweet sons? Growing older does have some perks, as it happens!