Story of the Day 12/ 26, 2013

Many years ago as in something like 23, my son, Ely, was about 3 and we lived in Zanesville , Ohio.
In the middle of our kitchen was a small square table and 4 antique wooden chairs. Many times a week I would yelp at Ely to sit with his butt on the seat of the chair, so he wouldn't get hurt. By hurt, I was imagining him falling off the side of the chair. Since I have always had poor balance, it makes perfect sense to me, although, everyone else seems to think the idea is funny.....
Ely, at 3, didn't laugh ( yet), but most of the time he ignored me.

Until one day when it happened.
On that day, which was mid-summer, Ely was coloring , and I heard a cry. He had fallen through the back opening of the chair. The chair had spindles , but there was an open gap between the cross bar and the seat, and he had fallen into that space and gotten stuck. I stopped washing dishes, and started trying to pull him out , the same way he had gone in. But he was stuck fast.
I tried to turn his squirming body one way and then the other.
I got out the vegetable oil and started to oil his little midsection. Since it was summer and he was in shorts and a scant top, this was simplified.
At about this moment, while I was smearing liquid vegetable oil all over my son, our backyard neighbor knocked on the door. I opened it and enlisted her help.

Now it was the two of us trying to get Ely unstuck. We discussed breaking the chair, but were afraid we would end up hurting Ely in the process.
Finally, after much maneuvering, and more oil, he came unstuck.
However, he now had what ended up being a nice group of hand shaped bruises on his very fair skin. Fortunately, I had a witness, in my neighbor, who could verify that the bruises were not the result of child abuse.

This incident, did, however, make a lasting impression .
On me.
I redoubled my nagging, every time anyone sat or perched on a chair and their butt wasn't on the seat. And I would repeat my new mantra. "You could get hurt!"

You would think that the incident might have left a lasting impression on Ely, too, but whatever the impression was, it faded along with the bruises.

I know this because , this evening, at about 10 PM, I heard a voice frantically calling, "Mom, Mom!"
And then, with a bit of embarrassment, "Can you come help me, I am stuck!"

My son, who is 25...almost 26, had managed to get himself stuck in a chair. In a sofa , to be exact.
He had stood on it, and his foot had slipped into the frame and gotten lodged in such a way that only his wonderful mother could possibly get him unstuck.

Which I did, but only AFTER I pulled out the camera and had taken a few photos.