Kellan Embarasses Me...Again

As we were leaving my doctor's office today, we saw an older man in a wheel chair with his head leaning back and his jaw slack. Kellan shouted, "Mom, that man's dead!"

Let me just say, for having just seen a supposed dead man, he was pretty calm about it. You'd think he saw dead people every day. Or maybe he is just used to having to try to wake me up so I can help him go to the bathroom in the middle of the night.

Also, the other day I gave the boys gum after we took the sacrament. I caught Kellan just as he was cocking his arm back to throw his wadded-up gum wrapper at the bishopric. We were in the second row, so he probably would've at least made it up in the pulpit. I hope he was aiming for Jesse, but deep inside, I know he has no compunction against throwing trash at anyone.

P.S.: Every time we walk into the chapel at church, regardless of if we're sitting down before the meeting or re-entering  after a trip to the bathroom, Kellan gallops up the aisle. He manages to evade me grasp every single time.

Today I Got Stuck In The Couch

At first I panicked. Then I had Kellan bring me the phone, I called Jesse, and I couldn't stop laughing. Here's what happened:

Kellan and I were doing fun educational things. Noelle came to join us and she pushed one of the magnetic letters we were using through the cushions of the couch. This couch is going to start sounding really weird, so I should explain it's a reclining couch, so it has parts that move and gaps and stuff.

Anyways, it ended up falling on the floor underneath the couch and was sitting on top of the frame. Moving the couch wasn't going to do any good to get it out, and if I tried, the cartilage in my hips would probably tear. My solution was to recline the footrest, recline the seat back, lay on my side, scoot under the footrest, and jam my arm over a bar and through a triangle of metal. Since I still couldn't reach the letter I scooted closer. Still couldn't reach the letter. I decided it was a bad job and tried to pull my hand out, but it was firmly stuck. Like, I knew that even if I could reach my hand with my other hand, which I couldn't, lotion would in no way help. The only thing that would help would be to chop off  my hand. No doubt I would've tried it during my panic stage, but I couldn't reach it. I tried to recline the seat back more, but it wouldn't budge.

I couldn't figure out why it was so stuck when it seemed to go in fine, but then I started to freak out and try to use a lot of force and sheer panic to get it out. No luck. I called Jesse and asked him to come home and help me. (Kellan brought me a phone. He was so helpful. No doubt he'll talk about it in Primary on Sunday and make me look crazy.) After I hung up and calmed down, I realized that I had scooted forward and possibly changed the angle of my hand, so I scooted back and tried yanking it out again. Didn't work. Then I tried reclining the seat back from that angle. Yeah. Wish I had tried that before I called Jesse and scraped up my hand.

The moral of the story? Grease up your hands before jamming them into small triangles of metal.