Poor Braedy

We were driving home from somewhere and Braedy was yelling in the backseat, "Mom! I can't get my finger out of here! Mom! It's stuck!" I didn't really listen to him because he's always yelling about something. He's the child that you tune out because he never stops talking, yelling, singing, whining, screaming, jabbering etc.

So, I looked back for a second and saw that he had his finger stuck in the hook near the roof of the van. I didn't really worry about it and told him to just pull it really hard and it would eventually come out.

Well, it didn't and when I got home, I had to run in and get the olive oil. Of course, I had to grab my camera, too. What kind of mother would I be if I didn't document his childhood?

Here's what he looked like (hiding from the camera):



Close up of wedged finger:



With a nice glob of olive oil, I was able to pry his finger loose. I was so glad because I had visions of calling 911 and having a firetruck scream into our driveway and the firemen having to use the Jaws of Life to free his finger!