D0o-da-doo-doo-da-doo.  We have a back story I am going to tell right up front. Actually, I didn’t really tell it back or front to Cameron, who pushed the scooter all the way back from the far side of Bixler Lake Park.  You see, it had power, but the engine wouldn’t catch.

He leaned against the car as I looked it over and thought, “Oh, but why? It ran well when I took it around the block.”

Then my mind clicked and I just made mindless doo-da-doo noises to keep myself from blurting out some crucial information.

It quit running because after Summer and I replaced the battery, the motor wouldn’t start and so we checked the air filter and the spark plug. It still didn’t start until Summer realized a lock was engaged to help deter theft. We flipped that gadget and varooom. Now, notice the only reason we looked at the spark plug is because we had forgotten the lock thingie.

And, do-da-doo-da -doodle, apparently I didn’t put the spark plug cap on really, really tight and it vibrated off.

That is the  little back story to Cameron’s marathon push home . . . on one of our warmest days.

I said the little spark plug cap had vibrated off and he muttered a curse word in a tiny little voice: one word – one whimpered word. I didn’t tell him why the cap vibrated off. I figured while fate might get a squeaked response, my carelessness might result in the evil stare of death.

I figure he had a good story to tell at school – all that pushing. I have learned sometimes your conscience can stand a little weight. Anyway, it was good exercise.

doo-da-doo-doo-da-do