Last year, when the power mower was broken and wouldn't run, I kept hinting to my husband that he ought to get it fixed, but somehow the message never sunk in.

Finally, I thought of a clever way to make the point.

When my husband arrived home that day, he found me seated in the tall grass, busily snipping away with a tiny pair of sewing scissors.

He watched silently for a short time, and then went into the house.

He was gone only a few moments, and when he came out again he handed me a toothbrush.

He said, "When you finish cutting the grass, you might as well sweep the sidewalks."

He gets out of the hospital next week !!