Smoke-n-Mow

Today was the day--I was going to take the new lawn mower on its inaugural journey.  This beauty was purchased last fall in preparation of the new season.  Self-propelled, rear wheel drive, electric start, horsepower to beat the band...a real beauty.  Our old lawn mower, older than our high school aged nieces, was retired after one too many rounds of the lawn and a lack of self-propelling anything except us--we were the propellers.  It puttered, sputtered and spit oil like there was no tomorrow.  Although it served us well, it was time for it to go.

Before embarking on the journey across the lawn, I ask the wife to show me how to use this thing:

Me: So, How do I use this?

The Wife: Well, you pull this to keep it running, you hold in these little handles to propel the wheels, you push this button to start it.

Me: No primer?

The Wife: Not that I know of.

Me: I push this button and go?

The wife: Yes.  Be careful.  You're going to be running behind that thing. It's not like our old mower.

Me: Get your camera phone, then.

I asked her a few more mundane questions, to which she had no answer.

Me: Didn't you read the owners manual?

The Wife: I did.

Me: Maybe you should read it again.

I push the button and it purrs like a kitten.  A KITTEN!  I pull in the little "let's get going" handles and I.GET.GOING.  I mean, I'm like a horse shooting out of the gate.

I am ZOOMING around the lawn, yee-haw-ing all the way.  This is nothing like our old mower.  I mean, I sweated doing the lawn, pushing that thing across the tundra.  This thing is a breeze.  No pushing--just hanging on for the ride.  I begin to think about how much I am going to love mowing the lawn...when....

Now, I swear to you, I am not making this up.  I couldn't make this stuff up if I tried.  The neighbor was outside, so she can vouch for me.....

As I cross the back lawn, big, thick puffs of smoke starts pouring out of the motor. A horrific-but-familiar smell permeates the air.  Then, EVERYTHING is spewing smoke and oil--yes, oil!  I let go of the bar and the motor cuts off.

The back yard looks like a rock concert smoke machine gone wrong.

I hear from the side of the house, out of view: "Are you all right?"

Dead god, it's the wife and she's headed toward the brand new now-smoking lawn mower!  There is nowhere to hide.  I look to the neighbor who is for some reason sitting on the ground in the back of her lot.  "That doesn't look good," she says.  "You're telling me," I answer.

That's when the wife sees it.  I don't even have to turn around to look at her--I know what she looks like at this very given moment.  I want to scream out "I DIDN'T DO ANYTHING!" but there is no way to prove this; after all, I was the one behind the wheel.

I keep staring at the lawn mower, hoping it will speak to me of its woes.  That's when I see it.  The oil cap has fallen off/blown off and that is where the oil is spewing from.  I'm not sure if the thing was loose or blew up or whatever--it doesn't matter because it's too late and everything is covered in oil--hence, the billowing smoke and familiar smell of burning oil.  There really is oil everywhere and the thing just keeps smoking.

The wife: What happened?

Me: I dunno.  I was mowing the lawn and it started spewing smoke.  Look! The oil cap fell off.  That's why there is oil.

The Wife: I don't know whether to cry now or later.

She walks away.

I look at the neighbor and shrug my shoulders.  (She's the same neighbor that saw me blow up the riding lawn mower a few years back, where flames were literally shooting out of the engine.  I'm sure she thinks I did something to lead to this debacle.) I decide to push the mower to the front of the house where it can cool off and not set the lawn on fire.  As I'm pushing, I keep thinking about how I didn't do anything wrong. I didn't run over anything.  I didn't fall over anything.  I didn't push any buttons.  I leave Smoky the Lawn Mower in the driveway, far away from anything flammable.  I hop on the riding lawn mower, not only because I have to mow the lawn but also because it will drive me far away from the wife AND it will be so loud I won't be able to hear her.

Thankfully, the wife decides she caused the problem.  "I didn't put the cap back on right."  As I didn't touch it (heck, I didn't even know it existed), I am off the hook.  Thank you, baby jesus!

I tell her we should take it back--after all, how can an oil cap shoot off of a running mower like that? She assured me it was her failure to tighten the lid that led to the problem and that it isn't the manufacturer's fault for such an accident.  I'm skeptical.  I'm still thinking this should be exchanged but I'm just the mower minion, not the mower Lord.

Suffice it to say the wife spent the rest of the afternoon cleaning the new mower.  It looks brand new again.  She wiped it and cleaned it and polished it.  I hope she knows it is going to smoke like a chimney the next time we fire it up, as all that oil is still on the motor.  I'm not saying a word.  Heck, I'm not gonna offer to mow the lawn.....

...I'm just gonna pull weeds.  I don't think I can blow anything up doing that.