My first job was in third grade, mowing the grass of a rental property my dad owned (see illustration below). http://i596.photobucket.com/albums/tt47/Lovecartoons1/Cartoons/BadDog.jpg The three primary differences were that my dad was infinitely better at being patient and supportive than the man in the cartoon, I was somewhat worse at mowing than the dog in the cartoon, and to the inevitable delight of anyone good at visualizing, the lawn mower was, in real life, a rider.