““Husband Dodges Mother-in-Law Invasion by Making a Desperate Call to The Lawn Boys”
The Lawn Boys vs. Bernice: A Suburban Survival Story
It was a peaceful Saturday morning—the kind where a man wants to sip his coffee, stretch his legs, and avoid making eye contact with the overflowing to-do list on the fridge. But then, from the kitchen, came a sound more terrifying than a rattlesnake in a sleeping bag—his wife, Molly, clearing her throat.
“Honey,” she said, her voice dripping with the kind of forced sweetness that made his stomach drop. “The lawn looks awful. You said you’d mow it two weeks ago.”
The husband took a slow sip of his coffee and glanced outside. Okay, maybe the grass had gotten a little out of hand. There was a decent chance that a family of raccoons had built a duplex somewhere in that jungle. But was it that bad?
“I think it’s fine,” he shrugged. “Looks kinda natural. Good for the environment and all that.”
Molly crossed her arms. Oh no.
“Alright,” she said, “but if you won’t take care of it, I guess I’ll just have to call… Bernice.“
The coffee cup nearly fell from his hands. Bernice. His mother-in-law.
Molly’s mother was a woman who could outwork a full-grown man before breakfast and still have enough energy to tell him how he was doing everything wrong. She was like a human tornado of judgment and yard maintenance. And worst of all, Bernice loved yard work.
If she moved in, she wouldn’t just mow the lawn—she’d take complete control of the property. She’d be out there at dawn in a giant sun visor, shaking her head at him and saying things like, “Real men don’t let their grass get this long.” He’d be demoted to the garage, while Bernice reigned supreme over his home.
Not today.
Thinking fast, he grabbed his phone and did what any rational man would do: he called “The Lawn Boys”.
Within the hour, the cavalry arrived. Mowers revved, trimmers buzzed, and weed whackers whacked with righteous fury.
The Lawn Boys moved with the efficiency of a NASCAR pit crew, transforming his jungle into the finest lawn in the neighborhood.
When Molly stepped outside, she took one look at the flawless, professionally cut lawn and let out a satisfied sigh.
“Wow,” she said, nodding in approval. “The Lawn Boys really came through. Mom would be impressed.”
She quickly snapped a photo and sent it to her mother.
The husband grinned, feeling like he had just dodged a nuclear warhead. Crisis averted. Bernice was out of the picture.
Then, his phone buzzed. Bernice.
“Saw the new lawn. Looks great. I’ll be there tomorrow at 6 AM to inspect it in person.”
His stomach dropped.
Molly patted his shoulder. “She just wants to admire it, I’m sure.”
But the husband knew better. Bernice didn’t just “admire” things—she evaluated them like a military general inspecting the troops.
He turned to The Lawn Boys crew, standing proudly by their work. “Fellas… I need this lawn to be so perfect that Bernice takes one look and leaves without saying a word.“
One of them smirked. “Buddy, it already is. She won’t find a single blade out of place.”
And that’s how The Lawn Boys didn’t just save a marriage… they struck fear into the heart of Bernice with the most perfect lawn she had ever seen.
