Hi.
I woke up this
morning and decided that I was going to post some stuff on this blog. Mainly because it's been short on the updates lately.
Word.
But first. But first, I
have some very exciting news!
And by news I mean a harrowing tale of woe and
misery.
And by exciting I mean painful. Very, very
painful.
I will start at
the beginning …because it’s a very good
place to start. April 2013. Spence bought me new laundry baskets for my
birthday. Because laundry is my love language. Not really. But I am a lover of
practical gifts. So it was a celebrated birthday gift.
On the first
laundry experience with said new laundry baskets we endured a minor setback.
The little handle covers thingamajiggers fell off. Boom. Just like that. Plastic little handle covers thingamajiggers
flying everywhere. There were no other injuries. Other than it caused me to
make some exaggerated scene - ranting and raving about how craps not made like
it used to be. Seriously.
But I decided to
be the bigger person in the situation and ignore the baskets imperfections.
Until recently, when I made a brilliant decision to restore the broken basket
to new. Enter super glue.
In the name of
fixing the laundry basket situation I dumped a big ol’glop of super glue all
over the handle of the basket.
And then Marlee –
in the name of being a total and complete hoodlum – climbed up on top of the
kitchen counter and started removing plastic cards and receipts and gas station
fountain drink punch cards and all other manner of purse contents and throwing
them in the air like confetti. In my efforts to rescue my personal belongings
and wrestle the toddler off of the counter top I managed to knock the laundry
basket onto the floor.
No biggie. I
picked up the basket and continued my gluing attempts. Standing very still (and
firmly, might I add) as I offered complete concentration on not gluing my
fingers to the big ol’glop of super glue on the basket. I glued and applied
pressure, and glued and reapplied pressure. And then glued some more. All the
while standing very still as I focused on my bonding efforts. I managed to only
remove the fingerprint of one finger in the process. Win.
And then I was
done. And the proper thing to do when you are done with something is to walk
away from the situation. Which is what I did.
And…OH. MY.
HECK!
You guys.
Apparently in the
part of the story where Marlee and I knocked the basket (with the big ol’glop
of super glue) onto the floor, a portion of the glop fell to the floor. And then
I – as I stood very still and firmly – rested my barefoot in that glop of super
glue.
Do you see where
this is going?
I MANAGED TO
SUPER GLUE MY FOOT TO THE FLOOR.
No kidding.
Do you want to
know what is really, really painful?
Answer: Super glue on
your skin.
Want to know
what is worse than that?
Answer: When the super glue
is removed and takes a portion of your skin as a souvenir.
Want to know
what’s worse than that?
SUPER GLUING YOUR RIGHT FOOT TO A WOOD FLOOR!
Don’t do it. It
sucks.
Yesterday I did
laundry again. And guess what … the super glued little handle covers thingamajiggers fell
off my laundry basket.
Foot super gluing experience all for not.
Today I’ll be
employing a half used roll of duct tape, because super glue is dead to me!
***
Oh, and also.
There is a snake
in my flower bed! That gives me peace and comfort.
4 comments:
Hahaha! Thanks for the laugh! Even though this isn't nearly as painful, at least your washing machine didn't decide to stop working and the machine people can't seem to fix it for the last 2 months. I'm running out of clean clothes!!!
HAHa!! Maybe you should apply a little super glue to your bricks on your flower bed, and catch that snakey!!
ouch!
That stinks! Though I have to admit, as I was reading this I kept saying to myself, "Please don't say that Marlee glued herself... Please don't say that Marlee glued herself!" So I was slightly relieved that it was your foot and not Marlee's, though it truly is a bummer that it happened at all!
Post a Comment