THE MOWER FIXATION

My son James has many fun-triggers - people, activities, toys, filmed entertainment, food - that get him excited. Some of these things are fleeting, mere flings, flights of fancy in his busy life. Some things last longer, reach peaks of enjoyment and then taper away. And some things are hot wired into his remarkable little brain to such an extent that he exhibits Steve Austin-like powers of perception where they are concerned. There is no tapering, no fling, these are the love stories of his toddlerdom.

One such love affair is with the humble lawn mower. The gravitational pull of this mild-mannered grass cutting implement is at its most powerful around my trusty Masport. When I'm mowing the lawn nothing else on earth exists except the dribble down the front of his jumper as he watches me slack jawed through the window.

But the real power of this fixation lies in its unexpected reveal. In the car, driving to Porirua, suddenly, "Dad! That tractor is mowing the lawn!" He can barely see over the window ledge but sure enough in the distance, through some bushes, beyond a cluster of school buildings is a speck of a tractor with a mower attachment. There is no question of hearing it; the radio is on. But somehow with a nearly 360 degree view of the passing landscape, passing cars, pedestrians, buildings, James is able to pick out the ant-sized John Deere trimming the football field. If the Yanks heard of this I'm sure they'd use him to find Bin Laden. The trick would be getting the guy to mow the lawn at Al Quaeda HQ.

-Chris

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