A Fire Truck Visits James Street

Yesterday, we had some excitement here on James Street.  B and I were in the basement (Mike was at his niece's communion) doing laundry, when she came up to me and told me "it's stuck."  I look at her and she had a potty seat stuck around her neck.  I tried to get it off, but it wouldn't budge.  So I took her upstairs and tried again.  No luck.  By now she was crying, "don't take it off, leave it on."  The seat was getting stuck at her ears and I guess it hurt.  

I asked B if she wanted Markus (out knight in shining armour neighbor) to try to get it off. She said yes, and next door we went.  Markus gets cudos for not laughing by the way.  He tried with no luck.  He then suggested that we rub some oil on her ears.  No luck.  Then some soap.  No luck.  At this point poor B was hysterical.  "Leave it on! Leave it on!' B said.  

Markus and I made the decision to call the fire department.  I gave them a call, explained the situation, and they were here in about 10 minutes.  The weren't sure what to do, but they figured it out.  

And I got photos of it all.  I will bring them out when B brings that first boyfriend home or on her wedding day.  

The fire truck.

B with the seat over her neck.

Nick and Kevin, the fire guys.  They used a knife

to cut through the foam, a screwdriver to take off the 

green handle and clippers to cut through the plastic seat.

Operation Remove Potty Seat.

Yes, I am very thankful to all the supporting cast of our little drama.  The fireman were very nice, and Markus was helpful, calm and took pictures.  And I. too, was calm.  OK, I laughed, but I tried to cover my face so B wouldn't see.  I mean, come on, it is funny.