I had a brief fascination with the lawn mower when I was a kid. It looked like one big robot that cut grass as it moved. It was fun pushing one because it was like pushing the trolleys in the supermarkets. Sometimes, I would hang on to the handle and the lawn mower will just move by itself. So for while the lawnmower was great fun. One fine afternoon, for whatever reason, I decided to lift one and flip it over to see what's underneath the mysterious lawn mower. But it was too heavy a machine given my minute size. I sat on the lawn for a moment to solve the problem. I thought maybe the robot wouldn't let me turn it upside down if it was not turned on. So I pushed the red button on the machine and the lawn mower started running. I could hear the spinning sound of some motorized parts beneath. Let's see if it cooperates, I thought. Naively, I placed my hands underneath the front edge of the lawn mower and tried again. I barely lifted the lawn mower 2 inches off the ground. I gave up. As I slid my hands out, I saw that my fingers were painted red. Then I realized my fingers were bleeding. They have been sliced, silently and painlessly by the spinning blades of the lawn mower. I started crying and ran inside because I wasn't sure what had just happened.

Luckily my fingers are still intact and I didn't develop a phobia of lawn mowers. I do, however, have a gardener.