My favorite new primative device

I just looked out the window and realized I need to mow the lawn again. Somehow its always been my job, probably becouse I really dont mind it, in fact I come close to enjoying it. If it werent for the fact that I am constantly reminded of my need for anger managment therapy every time I face the on going fude between me and the lawnmower. I could just ask for help but you see I am a bit on the stubborn side. I rarely admit I need anyones help. I paint walls, put up crown moulding, use skill saws and table saws and tile cutters and replace sinks and tile floors and walls and counter tops, by myself. Surely I need no assistance with gardening, Im a professional nurserymen for crying out loud! So the battle begins as I attempt to crank the lawnmower. I spend at least 10 minutes out in the front yard pulling on a stupid string,checking to see if it has gas, then bent over the side looking at the little bubble your supposed to push "3 times" to make sure that there really is gas in that little bubble and trying to see if it actually gets pushed into somewhere else when you mash it or its just part of some manufacturers sense of humor frustrating wemen all across the globe. Somebody somewhere thinks it's really stinking funny when they drive by a house and see somebody on there knees bent over the lawnmower studying the little useless button, I just know it! Anyway after I mash the button repeatadly again while I watch to make sure it functions I pull on the string for 5 more minutes while the stupid thing refuses to crank. At that point I can literally feel my face beginning to turn red like they do in the cartoons before steam comes rising up and the whistle blows. And then the inevitable happens, I yell a really not nice 4 letter word loud enough for every body in the neighborhood to hear. Then I march to the front door and stick my head in, "JOHNYY, I NEED YOU!" And Johnny magically appears with a smile, knowing it eats away at me to say that, he just smiles and sais "cant start the lawn mower huh." Then he shakes his head and goes to get his shoes. Its the same routine every time, then he comes out the door looks at the lawn mower for a minute and talks to me like I'm the stupid one not the lawnmower.(the nerve) He reaches over and pulls the string and my eyes widen as it comes close to starting then shuts off...." Whew that was a close one, I just know it has to be the lawnmower this time not my inability to start a simple device. "Babe how many times did you push the button?"he sais "the first time only three!" thats my best defense, becouse by the time I finally give up, curse and go admit I need my husbands help I have probably mashed that thing 100 times. Then he expalains to me that your only supposed to push it three times and that he will have to wait a minute before cranking it. Then we spend the next few minutes while I despaerately try to explain that I already did the 3 time thing several times and pulled the string at least 10 times after each mashing of the little orange button and factoring in my time spent tugging on a string, examining the button, checking the gas and cursing, I wait much longer than two minutes between my button mashing attempts to start the lawnmower. He doesnt believe any of it becouse sure enough it cranks right up and blows black smoke everywhere on his next try.Then he sais now see Babe you flooded it. Then I not so nicely snatch the lawn mower and explain to him it was not my fault, I did not make all the black smoke, the lawnmower just hates me. Then I mow the lawn and he goes back inside, I dont even have to look anymore I know he stands there watching me for a minute then goes back into the house with that stupid grin on his face. "She needs me" But you see this year for my birthday I changed all that, my Dad gave me money for my birthday, so of course I went to Lowes to see what I could spend it on and there it was, my saving grace a nice new shiny lawnmower. Not just any lawn mower but a lawnmower that you dont have to crank. Could there e such a device and I had not known. They seriously wouldnt be selling this thing if it did not work? After all, when we moved into our house John removed all the St Augustine grass and we replaced it with Centipede. My lawn is not typical Florida 4 inch thick carpet of weeds you can't even walk threw, I have soft thin bladed grass, golf course looking grass. This must be what Northerners use that don't have crabgrass lawns. That thing was in my buggy being ran to the nearest checkout isle befor I knew what I was doing. I love that thing!