Man vs. Machine

So my dad is having open heart surgery and I ask my mom if there is anything she needs done around the house that is manly. She tells me that she would like the areas that she is going to plant flowers in the front of the house tilled. Sounds simple enough. So I go to the garage and pull out the tiller. The thing is huge. I fill it with the 50:1 gas that my father tells me to use. I then go to the start the thing up. I set the choke and pull the cord. Nothing. I prime it, pull it and nothing. Again and nothing. After about 50 pulls and a bruised hand from the pull string attachment I decide to read the picture instructions. I looks like there is a key. I go looking for a key and nothing. I then ask my father who is post op day one and he insists there is no key. I should look for the switch on the handle. So I go back and hold the gas down while I give it another 60 tries. Nothing. My pride is now damaged and I give up. Just then I put a few pieces of the puzzle together and I look for my dads snow blower. I can't find it. Do you know why?

Because it is the tiller.

Only it's not, it's the snow blower. This stupid city boy has been trying to till his mother's flower garden with the stinking snow blower. I'm just glad I didn't get it started. Anyway, I then drained the 50:1 fuel out of the gas tank of the regular gas snow blower and I found the tiller. It turns out the actual tiller is quite easy to start. It also turns out that I am a moron. That may not be news to you, but it's news to me. Nurse boy strikes again!

Open Heart

It seems like a lot has happened since the last time I posted. I posted about my dad, and he recently had a tripple bypass. He had some indigestion at night and some tightness in his chest when walking up the driveway with the paper in the morning. He cassualy mentioned this to the doctor after tax season was over of course. That led to a normal EKG. That led to an abnormal stress test. That led to a worrisome cardiac catheterization. He had a 98% blockage in his left main cardiac artery. They call that the widowmaker. You don't survive that heart attack. He had a tripple bypass on Sunday, and is now home on Wednesday. He is a stud.

When at home before the trip to Indy I walked into Sweat Pea's room and she is lying on her back with with her finger in her nose. She lifts her finger toward me and says, "a yucky. I'm pooppy!" I think she was asking for her Mother.

We made it to Indy in 8 1/2 hours. The kids were awesome. The wife and I were whiny. I can't wait. In 8 years Dimples will be driving and I will sit in the back and watch a movie. It will have to be an action flick. The drive to Indy will be much better then. I will ask is we are out of Kansas City yet when we are still in our own neighborhood. Revenge will be sweat.