I always hate to see "Learning Years" pop up on my my iPhone caller ID because it almost always means one of the boys is sick and has to be picked up.
Not this time.
Voicemail. Started with, "This is Johnna. I'm calling about Carson but don't worry he's fine"
That's a good start. I figured broken arm for sure.
"Carson got his head stuck in a chair. We tried buttering his ears but that didn't work so we had to break the chair apart".
Can't. Stop. Laughing!!!!!!!
And I really couldn't stop laughing as I called school back to tell them to stop worrying. I wasn't going to file a complaint.
Actually my only complaint.... as my mother called within 30 seconds of receiving the email from me:
DID THEY GET A PICTURE!?!
My only complaint? No picture :)
And the chair was in the dumpster by the time I got there.
The only evidence remaining?
Slippery, sore ears.
And a towel, hammer, and screwdriver piled in the corner.
It actually took three people to get him out.
One to hold his towel covered head.
One to hold the chair.
And one to wedge the screwdriver into the chair and smack it enough times with a hammer to break the chair into pieces.