Not Even Elephants - Revised

        “Welcome to the Stay Stuck emergency line. Press 1, if you or someone you know ingested one of our products. Press 2, if you or someone you know stuck a body part to a body part with one of our products. Press 3, if you—” said a computerized voice on the other end of the line. I interrupted the voice by pressing 2. Yes, that's correct; I stuck a body part to another body part with a Stay Stuck product.

         You see, my hand was currently glued to my butt. No, not my pants, my butt. Please don't think I'm some sick weirdo. I assure you it started out innocent enough. My daughter had brought home a letter from the teacher. I was tasked with making some decorations for the spring dance and bringing them in the next day. It didn't take a genius to know my little angel forgot to give me the letter. To make matters worse, I am not a crafty person. I'm bad, scary bad. Explains a lot doesn't it.

         I struggled for hours, but nothing stayed glued down. At some point, I gave up and headed for the store to find some miracle. While in the craft department, I spotted a small display of Stay Stuck. The sign proclaimed, “Not even elephants can pull our glue apart.” I could only hope this would be my miracle. I purchased my glue and headed home to begin my torture anew.

         I laid out my design and started gaining some confidence. The things I stuck down were now staying down. The slogan for the dance needed sketched out, so I set to work. I adjusted some of the letter spacings, and soon the banner was ready to be painted.

         My tongue slipped out as I concentrated on the task at hand. As if on cue, I noticed a paint drip descending my brush. I snatched the paper towels up, knocking over my paint cup. Paint splattered and coursed down every crevice. I snatched up everything in the path of the paint and set the items aside. I grabbed for the paper towels to contain the paint.

         I took a deep breath and counted to ten. Everything survived the ordeal, except my pants. I started pulling them off, hoping to avoid any more paint mishaps. My balance wavered, and I wobbled on one leg trying to right myself. I threw my palm down in an effort to catch myself, and it landed right on the tube of Stay Stuck.

         “Dammit!” I yelled, flopping myself down in the chair. I jumped up and grabbed my tush in one maneuver. I forgot where I had set the hot glue gun. I knew right away there was trouble. I tried to remove my hand from my tush with no luck. If only I had worn my granny panties today. In the end, I called the number on the bottle and pressed 2.