Why it is wise to Listen to your Mother

(Editor's note:  If you see the word "motorcycle" and think "boring" and are tempted to move on.... please keep reading.  It is not as boring as it sounds).

With Sara and the girls gone for the weekend, I decided to turn the heat on in the garage and work on my old motorcycle (for those who don't know, I bought a 1983 Honda 1000 as a "winter project").

I have heard this bike run on 2 out of 4 cylinders (not a good thing) and it had a really loud knocking sound in the front of the engine. 

Concerned about that, I decided to do the logical thing and check the oil.  Pulled the dipstick.... no oil.  Like none.... none on the dipstick.... none to be seen in the hole.... none!

So I did the next logical thing..... I stuck my pinky in there.... still no oil.... could not touch anything.

Then I did the next semi-logical thing..... I stuck my index finger in there.  Now, it was sort of a tight fit mind you, but I shoved it in there anyway.

"Was there oil on my index finger?" you ask.

I had no idea because...... I COULD NOT GET MY FINGER OUT OF THE HOLE!!!!!!!

Seriously.... it was stuck in as far as it could go and it was not coming out.  I pulled.... nothing!  I twisted.... nothing.  I pulled really hard.... nothing.

Then I started to get a little worried.  I mean, if the blood was being restricted (which it was being such a tight fit and all) then my finger was going to swell and I was really going to have trouble getting it out.

Adding to the problem, I had placed the motorcycle by the overhead doors so that I could open them and get some fresh air if and when the bike started.  What this meant was that I was a long way from any sort of grease or oil that I could have put on my finger to lubricate it because all that stuff was on a shelf on the other side of the garage. 

By the way, the motorcycle weighs about 600 pounds and is hard enough to push around when I am standing up much less when I am hunched over with one finger in the oil filler hole.

Oh - and I hate carrying a cell phone (HATE IT!!!) so of course I did not have that on me so I could not call for help and the only other phone in the garage was across the room and on a shelf about 6 feet off the floor.

I began to think.... "I am in big trouble here!!!   No one is going to come looking for me until I miss church tomorrow morning because no one knows where I am.  Maybe they won't look in the garage and I will still be here when Sari and the girls get home tomorrow afternoon.  But by then I will have missed supper, my bedtime snack, breakfast and lunch...... who knows if I will still be alive??????  That would be an embarrassing way to die.  When the kids are asked, 'What happened to your dad?' they will have to say, 'Oh he stuck his finger in a motorcycle engine and starved to death'.  That is no where near as cool as 'He took a bullet trying to save the President' or something.  Poor kids!"

Then I did the next logical thing..... I PANICKED and YANKED my finger out as hard as I could.

My finger does not have quite as much skin on it now.  I lost some blood and it hurts a lot, but at least the girls will not have to find me dead in the garage.

"Don't stick your fingers where they don't belong!"   Good advice every mom has given their kids.... for good reason!