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Friday, July 11, 2008

Crazy Glue. It's not just for crazies anymore.

I've done it again. After years of benign glue activity I have managed to soak my finger tips in crazy glue. I caught the problem in time ... I think. After realizing that I had done this unfortunate deed I stood in the parking lot of our apartment complex turning circles with my hands and fingers pointed toward the sky. That way nothing could stick to me except a wayward sea gull (which could conceivably think I was offering up bread crumbs for a mid-day snack.) Or perhaps a Mayfly which survived the most recent manifestation. It didn't happen.

Finally, I reached oh-so-carefully into my LEFT jeans pocket with my RIGHT hand in a desperate attempt to reach my keys. Debbie realized I was acting oddly (okay, not so odd for me but still) and I told her what had happened. I got "the look." After retrieving my keys I got us into the building and, finally, our apartment. I went directly to the sink where I washed and washed and washed.

Note: You cannot wash off Crazy Glue.

I do not have access to any Crazy Glue remedy: fingernail polish remover. So I just waited until the stuff hardened. Currently I have no finger prints on the index or middle fingers of my right hand. They are glued over. And yet, like an idiot, I made my way directly to my mac and began blogging this post. I cannot feel two fingers and yet it occurs to me that I may well end up "one" with my macbook pro. I mean, I love Tess (that's her name) and all. But I also like to put her down occasionally. (I mean on a table. Not put her down like, "You're ugly.") So perhaps I best stop now. But I know what happens if I stop. I'll wind up glued to something like the TV remote. Or a book. Or a chair on the balcony. Or ... toilet paper.

Decisions never come easily these days.

5 comments:

Jan said...

My brother super-glued his eyelids together one time. As an adult. On the job. Hopefully it was only one eye. He ended up at the emergency room at Barnes Hospital to have the nice folks there unglue him.

He does enough stuff on the job like that that I'm pretty sure the ER employees greet him by name when he comes through their doors.

Oh, and nail polish remover is an inexpensive item. Perhaps Debbie could drive Emma and go buy some.

neeser said...

Or maybe it's just more entertaining for Debbie to watch you try to not superglue yourself to something else. Be careful what you pick up. I hope you get your fingerprints back soon.

laura said...

i think the reason there was no nail polish purchase is because if Debbie is having an "asthma" couple of days....it's probably not smart to fill their 1' x 3' apartment with strong fumes.

better luck next time you crazy old man.

hotomom said...

Hi Ron, I am from your daughter's blog and here is a post of mine where I did something just as bad if not worse... http://hotomom.wordpress.com/2007/11/25/one-hell-of-a-weekend/, take care in knowing that we all at one time do this type of stuff. :-) I hope your fingers regain their feeling soon.

Lauren E. said...

My husband would have taken this opportunity to ask me to put my hand in his pocket and retrieve the keys.