Thursday, March 26, 2009

A short, late Thursday post

For 5 minutes, I was a prisoner in my own sweatshirt. I've had this article of clothing for at least 5 years now, so you'd think I'd be well-versed in removing it.

Because the bungee cord-like elastic closure at the bottom got caught on our banister twice today (recoiling me into the wall both times), the knot was WAY too tight to undo. A claustrophobic panic began to set in, causing me to sweat (the original reason I was taking of the darned sweatshirt in the first place!) and ran through a billion ideas of how to get it off without destroying it. Plan A was using my teeth to pry the knot open. Plan B was to call ShankRabbit at work in tears.

Fortunately, Plan A worked.


Don't tell my dentist.

2 comments:

Call Me Cate said...

That is exactly the kind of thing I'd call Joe for. "Help, I'm trapped in my sweatshirt!!!" Claustrophobia is no joke, people.

Isabella said...

I'm glad I didn't have to calling ShankRabbit - he would have laughed at me (which he did after reading this post), making it that much worse. :)