Rock And Roll
A person doesn't have to be blind for this to have happened
to them but it helps. At least it makes it funnier.
I help baby sit my two and a half year old grand son nearly
every afternoon for a couple of hours so my daughter can go to
work. Her husband comes home after work and picks him up so
Sandy and I take turns, after she gets off work that is, watching
our grand son.
The latest thing for my grand son is motor cycles. My 15
year old son and my son in law both have motor cycles in my
garage that they work on and ride almost every day. My son rides
his in a field next to our home because he doesn't get his
driver's license until August. Anyhow, my grand son loves the
motor cycles. So, grandpa and grandma got him a power wheel.
For those unfamiliar with this, power wheels are battery powered
children's vehicles. My grand son has a three wheeled motor
cycle and he loves to ride it in our double car garage or out in
our backyard. The power wheels run off a rechargeable nicad
battery and the power wheel motor cycle we purchased literally
runs about 2.5 miles per hour. They are really neat riding toys
for kids. So, now for the funny part. Because of my grand son's
love for motor cycles, we spend a lot of time with him out in the
garage because he likes sitting on the big motor cycles and
pretending he is riding. I had an old wooden rocking chair out
there which I used to, the key word here is used to, sit in,
while my grand son pretended he was riding the motor cycles.
One day, about a week ago, I was rocking in my chair and
Everett was seated on one of the motor cycles. He always talks
with me while he is on the cycles because he likes to pretend we
are going somewhere, like to the store, to buy pop, m and m's,
and, apple juice. He loves all three of those items. Anyway, he
is riding away and I am rocking. this old rocking chair is not
in very good shape. In fact, part of it is broken but for
temporary usage, it is fine. It has very long curled rockers
under it so you can rock backward a long long ways. I was
leaning back and just thinking and not paying much attention to
what I was doing. I was listening, of course, to my grand son
because he normally asks a lot of questions while he is
pretending to be riding the motor cycles.
Suddenly I realized I was rocking pretty hard and that I was
back about as far as I had ever gone before in this particular
rocking chair. No, it won't tip over, I told myself, because it
will rock back a long ways. Then it happened and over backwards
I went. I was near the closed overhead doublewide garage door
so when I rocked over backwards, my head hit the door pretty
hard. It didn't hurt much but I certainly felt it. The problem
was, however, I was stuck in the chair with my neck bent forward
until my chin was almost on my chest. This chair is for skinny
people, too, something I forgot to mention, and I am not thin, to
say the least, though I'm on a diet right now. However, this
particular rocking chair fix me very snugly, if you know what I
mean. Well, to be truthful about it, you need a shoe horn to get
me in and out of the chair. It appears some knuckle head built
the rocking chair with the arms too close together but I digress.
So to get back to my story, I tipped over backwards, and my feet
are now higher than my head. I am jammed against the overhead
door and I cannot get out of this freaking rocking chair.
Actually, I was trying to figure out a way of getting over the
arm rests without completely and totally destroying the chair
because I wanted to keep using it. My grand son immediately
said, pa, he cannot say grandpa yet so he has called me papa for
many months now, are you ok? I started laughing and said, yes,
papa is ok but my grand son, not believing his grandfather,
jumped down off the motor cycle and came over to look at me. I
was still trying to decide how best to get myself out of the
chair without breaking it further. My grand son left the garage,
walked through my office between the house and the garage, and up
the steps to talk to his grandmother who was in the kitchen
fixing supper. He called her and said, papa fell over in the
chair and hit his head. Of course, Sandy immediately yelled out
to the garage to see if I was hurt or even if I'd been killed.
By this time I was laughing pretty good and called back that I
was fine but I was stuck, half up side down, in the rocking
chair. At this moment I figured the chair was a lost cause and I
rolled out one side; breaking the chair up the rest of the way.
What a bummer. Now I'm going to have to find a good rocking
chair at a garage sale or yard sale to replace the one I broke.
My grand son, for days, loved telling people what his papa did in
the rocking chair in the garage. Good thing the overhead door
was closed. Otherwise somebody might have seen the whole thing.
The way it is, only my two and a half year old grand son knows
what really happened and I can always deny he is telling the
truth.
Phil Scovell