Bud has a toy lawn mower that he loves. For as long as I can remember, he's called it his "motor." I assumed it was because one of his favorite fair-weather activities is pushing his toy around the yard as his Dad pushes the machine with the big loud motor.
Tonight after dinner Bud and I were in the kitchen when we heard the telltale sound of grass cutting beginning in the yard. Bud jumped up and looked at me with a sense of urgency.
"I have to go outside, Mom," he said. "I have to help Dad motor lawn."
Of course. Mow the lawn. Motor lawn. Motor.
Not even wrong.