Saturday, June 04, 2005

The Sledgehammer

I was making my boys a gourmet dinner of Kraft dinner yesterday evening. Preoccupied (because of the preparation of this particular dish) I ignored a couple of calls from my 2 year old.
"Mommy...stucka!" he cried.
"Okay sweetie!" I answered, but was carefully adding the butter and the milk to the macaroni.
"MOMMY STUCKA!" he cried once again.
"Oh Gavin, can't this wait!" I began, but turned around and sure enough Gavin was "stucka". Somehow he climbed over the back of our computer chair and wedged his ankle into the back slat of the chair. It was completely wedged. Quickly I went over and tried to pull and pry his chubby ankle out of the chair. It wouldn't budge and Gavin was starting to panic. I guess I didn't help matters out at all. Seamus came around the corner from the living room to see what was going on and I shouted out in a frantic mom voice, "Shay, it's bad...real bad!" So of course my 2 year old begin to cry.
Quickly I dialed Gramma and Grampa. Sometimes there are benefits for them living next door and surely this was one of them. The phone kept ringing and ringing. I hung up and instructed Shay and Josey to run over and get Gramma and Grampa over to help get him out of this situation. In the meantime I turned the chair over on the floor so Gavin could stand up and feel a little more comfortable. (as much as you can with a chair attached to your leg!)
Grampa arrived quickly, but Gramma was on the phone to her sister. I tried to show my dad how Gavin was wedged in the chair. Unfortunately my dad's eyes aren't exactly the best and he had to get right down to the floor within an inch of his grandson's wedged ankle.
"Oh crap. He's stuck good!" He said after finally noticing the chair that was attached to Gavin's leg. "This sounds like something that mom will be able to figure out! She's on long distance though!"
"Dad! Tell her to phone them back!" I pleaded.
"Oh okay." Off he went to fetch his wife to try and save his grandson. In the meantime it took a lot of back rubs and kisses to the cheek to try and soothe Gavin. After 15 minutes my parents arrived from next door. I guess they couldn't waste a long distance phone call! Both looked at Gavin's predicament and mom decided that maybe they should try and grease him out. I vetoed this attempt. I didn't want us trying to squish his chubby ankle no matter how greasy it was through the chair.
"Do you have a saw?" asked Dad.
"Oh shit." I thought to myself. No way in hell did I want a near blind man sawing away at a chair. Nevertheless, I knew my options were limited so I went to the basement to retrieve a saw. In the meantime I laid Gavin back down on the floor and had my parents hold the chair over top him. "Don't leg go" I instructed. I could hear my dad huffing and puffing trying to hold up this heavy chair.
Quickly I brought the rusty saw upstairs and handed it to my dad. My mom and I put our hands over Gavin's legs and his ankle. My dad began to saw...the wrong slat of the chair!
"Dad it isn't even that one!" I yelled.
"Oh!" he stopped got up and left. I wasn't sure if I had offended him or not and was beginning to think about calling the fire department when he returned dragging a 4 foot long sledgehammer! I have never in my life seen a sledgehammer so big!
"This should work!" he said.
"Oh shit!" I said aloud this time.
Gavin looked at the 4 foot long sledge hammer and said, "Bumpa no-no!" Poor little guy.
The game plan was on. First it took every bit of strength my father had to lift up this sledgehammer and he was going to strike and I said, "This slat dad!"
"Okay, brace yourself guys!"
He swung but hit the wrong part of the chair. Nothing happened. I must say this chair is pretty damn sturdy.
He picked up the sledgehammer again and I yelled "The top of the slat!" Gavin screeched 'blue murder' and my dad said "It might hit you Jen!"
"Better me than Gavey" I yelled. He swung and the wood fell apart! Gavin scrambled so fast out of the chair, looking like a mouse that narrowly escaped a mouse trap!
"Well that was easy!" dad said. I laughed and they left, both holding this 4 foot long sledgehammer. I need to ask them why they have this sledgehammer? They certainly aren't handy at all! Anyways it did the trick.
Scott came home from work and I told him of the events that happened.
"Priceless!" was his response.
I told Scott that we could get the chair repaired at a furniture repair store. This chair is a favourite of mine. It was a flea market find and I love the look and style of the chair.
"You don't think we should leave it like this and it'll be an interesting story!" he suggested.
"Yeah we'll give it as a wedding present to Gavin. Broken wood and all!" I added.
That night I relived the rescue to my sister who kept saying, " Only our family", and "why do they own a sledgehammer?"
An interesting evening it was. A comedy of errors of sorts.
I leave you with this quote for the day:
"Mommy stucka!"-Gavin
Enjoy your evening!


lightfeather said...

I love your family! Glad the little guy got loose!

Ruth said...

aww ...mostly cats get stucka around here....

kblog said...
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
kblog said...

Though I felt bad for your son (must have been scary for a 2 year old)I couldn't stop laughing. This story cracked me up! I could almost picture it. Sounds like something that would happen to my family. :)

Hick said...

Are you sure you are not a TV sitcom family? Heh.

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