Where The Green Grass Grows

Okay, so in this family, we (read I), have a twisted sense of humor. Practical jokes are an art form around here. Whoopi cushions are for amateurs. So as the story goes, you will need some background info. Hubby and I are not DIY types. In fact, we are completely incompetent at anything pertaining to home maintenance, both inside and out. However, we try, and with tips and advice from friends and neighbors, our home is still standing. Some of our neighbors are lawn gods. Luckily, they are also friendly and helpful when we have needs (probably to protect the values of their own homes).
So anyway, we had a summer of drought conditions with severe watering restrictions. We also had a service cutting the lawn, so we didn't have to. The grass was brown and dying. The lawn had a total lack of TLC as far as any type of weeding or fertilizing. Hubby was convinced that it was the fault of the lawn mowing service.
The next spring he decided to become a lawn god, because "real men mow their own lawns." He cancelled the service and bought a mower. I, being the loving wife that I am, resisted arguing that the lawn needed more care than just mowing. So while he is at work I confer with the man who has nicest lawn in town (he lives across the street) as to how to care for the lawn. Said neighbor, who I will refer to as "Bill" gave day to day, step by step instructions of what to buy, how to apply, etc.
Next thing you know our lawn is green and plush. Friends, who also happen to be neighbors , are accusing us of spray painting the lawn green (it would be much more our style). However, the same group knows that I am treating the lawn without Hubby's knowledge. Hubby comes home from work and proudly, hands on hips, to surveys the lawn each day. With great pride, he tells everyone who will listen that he is cutting his own grass. They smile (with a chuckle under their breath) and state what a good job he is doing.
In the mean time, I am exhausted. The lawn needed so much TLC that it is wearing me out, so I hire Scott's to finish out the season. The routine continues and Hubby grows prouder of his lawn and hard work by the day. I just keep telling him how awesome his mad lawn skills are. All those in on the joke keep complimenting him during his nightly surveys. This persists for about 3 months.
At this point, I get busted due to my own stupidity. One night he came home from work, started to survey his masterpiece, and spotted the lawn stake left by Scott's that day. I, because of thoughtlessness, or laziness, or whatever didn't notice it and hence, didn't remove it. Stupid! It had all been going so well. I had been laughing to myself all summer. Now the fun was over. He was ticked, but only for a few days, before he started laughing too. The next year he hired Scott's again. And so it goes on.