A conversation from a few weeks ago...
Me: Our lawnmower has a terrible squeak when I turn it. Seriously, it is so loud, I think the neighbors hear me. It's kind of embarrassing!
Studmuffin: Hmmm...It probably needs a belt replaced.
Me: And, I found this deal on the ground. I thought it was a gas cap, but nothing is missing a gas cap that I can find.
Studmuffin: Hmmm.....I think it's off the mower.
And I blithely went about my life, confident that my knight in shining armor would make all right with my world.
Fast forward to this Wednesday.
I pulled into the driveway at about 8:30 after choir practice. Studmuffin had his shop door up, and I could see him painting on the signs he made for the girls...
Studmuffin did diagnose the problem with the mower.
What a man.
What a MIGHTY good man.
You will never guess what the black thing-a-ma-jiggy was.
It turns out that black doo-hickey I found was not a gas cap.
It was the thing-a-ma-bob that holds the wheels on.
You see, Studmuffin began to mow.
And the front wheel fell off.
Did I mention ours is a riding lawn mower?
Did I also happen to tell you that my do-gooder neighbor Rebel (This is sadly not his blog name. It's the only name I know him by. And, he's exactly the type of neighbor you have unfortunately mentally labeled him with) was in his yard hitting those wiffle golf ball thingies...
Don't you love my technical terms?
He just stood in his yard, whacking wiffle golf balls and watching my Studmuffin drag, push, pull our three wheeled lawn mower to the shop...