“Thanks, Mrs. T, but that would be like calling my mother by her first name, and I wasn’t raised to do that sort of thing.”
“More like your grandmother,” she said, “which I’m certainly old enough to be.”
“All the more reason to be polite, Mrs. T.”
“You boys keep your yard looking so nice,” she said, changing the subject.
“We try. Looks like your lawn needs a touch-up, want me to take care of it for you?”
“Thanks for the offer, George, but my grandson has promised to come and mow it tomorrow.”
“Well, if he doesn’t show up, the offer still stands.” The kid was lazy and, more often than not, failed to keep his promises to his grandmother.
“Thank you, George,” she said. “I’ll leave you to it.”
I handed her the now empty glass and thanked her, and she went back inside her house. I finished mowing the backyard and went to check on Mike. I found him in the front yard, edging along the curb and sidewalk.