Saturday, November 6, 2010

Not For Children Under 3 Years

     At my work, the boss found some gun locks in her closet. She gave them to any employee who wanted them. I took one home with me. I spent that Friday locking and unlocking it. Today (Saturday) I decided to put it around my neck. Now that I think of it, I did feel a little befuddled when the key didn't come out. I went and let the felines in, then returned to my room followed by Mother Gothel (one of our two cats). I went to the mirror to remove the lock. It would not come off. The key wouldn't even turn. I decided to get help from a (most probably) experienced individual, my father.
     I found him in his study, eyes closed, head back. I decided to start on a more calm subject. "Who was on the phone?"
     "Your mother."
     "Is she okay?"
     "Yeah. We didn't win any games."
     "Daddy? I need help."
     At this point, my father opened his eyes and looked at me. He started laughing.
     "Come here." He managed to say through his chortles. I pulled up a chair. He pulled out his cell phone.
     "Are you going to text mom?" I nervously asked.
     "Better." He laughed. I began to feel that this would not turn out well. He phoned her instead. He merely told her the I had gotten into a dilemma, then held out the phone to me. I was not about to explain this to my own mother, so I did the only thing I could think of to avoid the inevitable.
     "NO! NO! NO! NO!" I screeched. Thankfully my mastermind plan worked like a charm, and Dad explained it to mom himself. He then hung up and went to fetch something across the room. As he returned I saw that he had his big pocket knife. He flipped it to the pliers. I held as still as possible as he tugged at the flexible steel chain. Suddenly he stopped and slapped the plastic tub beside him three times with such force that I thought it would break. He was laughing. Eventually he got the key out, inserted the other, and freed me from my own imprisonment. He mentioned that my mother said to call her father and see how her side of the family would deal with such things. I fled to my room.
     Looking at the lock now, it strikes me funny. Why? The lock reads, "PROJECT CHILDSAFE,". Perhaps it keeps children safe from guns, but not safe from their own creative genius.

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