Barry mowed the lawn for exercise. He rather enjoyed it; enjoyed it that is until his wife, Jacinta, decided to supervise.
“Mow in straight lines!” she would order from the raised veranda. “Don’t make the mowed lines criss-cross and mishmash. Get a bit of order into the pattern. It’s all higgledy-piggledy.”
That took the fun out of it. Barry hated mowing the lawn after that.
It so happened that Barry’s new job took him away from home, sometimes for a couple of weeks on end. Jacinta had to mow the lawn.
It was all criss-cross and mishmash. The mowed lines were all higgledy-piggledy. It afforded Barry a great deal of pleasure to survey it when he came home.
Weave a Web 
And she probably hated doing it – mowetic justice!
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Back-seat mowing never ends well.
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Poetic justice at its best.
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Pattern disphoria!
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I think there is an obscure saying about this. Do as I say not as I do? 🤔
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Jacinda broke the first, most important rule of relationships: Never critique a job you don’t want to have to do yourself. But she did at least try to correct her mistake with the second rule: Never do well with a job you really don’t ever want to have to do again.
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I hear the voice of experience. You may mow my lawn any time – criss-crossed or not.
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Next time I’m in the neighborhood.
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I shall keep the lawn mower full of petrol (which I believe you people call gas!)
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