Spawn of Satan

When Brad and Maeve asked me to come help them weed, I had no idea what I would be getting myself into. I pictured sitting on the ground with one of those weeder-thinger-ma-bobs I used to use to help mom in the garden when I was younger. The weeds in Brad and Maeve's yard are no match for a mere weeder-thinger-ma-bob.We were up against weeds as tall as me, complete with really sharp thorns. Weeds that are the spawn of Satan. I was given a left-handed glove with holes in the fingers, and a right-handed heavy-duty work glove that I was instructed not to get muddy. We had to grab on, pull, tug, yank, and if the weed still wouldn't come out of the ground, start rooting around with the weeder-thinger-ma-bob.
If I'd known this is what I'd been dealing with, I would have worn full leathers. I mean, there were thorns in the gloves, in my sleeves, in my shoes. My left nostril was chock-full of pollen. There was even a point where I was bent over, rooting and tugging, and when the weed finally gave, I fell flat on my ass. But I managed not to get the work glove muddy.
Don't get me wrong. I'm not complaining. I just found the whole situation funny. And if Brad and Maeve need help again, I'll do it. I'll wear thicker clothes and bring my own gloves. I'll pull weeds. Especially if there's some Crown Burger and an orange Fanta in it for me.