On our acreage, there are several buildings: a barn, corn crib, machine shed, garden shed, well house, and detached garage. The barn and corn crib are starting to show their age as they were not well maintained before we bought the property. Since I have no need for the corncrib, I have started tearing it down myself. While I am sure Laura is not real fond of me ripping apart the copula from the inside for fear of it collapsing, I went ahead anyway. It finally got to the point one day that I have the extension ladder inside the copula clear at the top working to get some of the more interesting hardware out, when out of nowhere one of the four main beams that support the copula starting cracking. OH CRAP! I turned the latter into a fireman’s pole and slid down to the bottom and got the heck out of there. When the copula finally stopped settling, it was over a foot lower on one side supported only by the roof sitting on the elevator inside. Well, I have done all I can do, time for Mother Nature to take it from here. Nearly six months later, on a clear windless day, the copula finally fell over. Unfortunately, it didn’t make it all the way to the ground. So it’s time to start again.
Laura was going to a conference for MAKS and was leaving on Friday and not coming back until Sunday. I took Friday off so I could watch Mason and decided it was too nice a day to be stuck inside. I gathered up the three tools I needed to start tearing into the corn crib again: a hammer, a wonder bar, and a five gallon bucket. As I was cleaning up some of the wood that fell to the ground during the collapse and taking it to the burn pile, Mason got into the bucket and took out the hammer. Of course, chasing the dog around the yard with a hammer is not really the preferred method of use.
So, it comes a point in every boy’s life when it is time to learn how to use a hammer. Even if that means not a single nail gets hammered. I showed him how to hit pieces of wood with it instead of the dog. I should have been more specific; dad’s knee is not a piece of wood! After a short dance, I hobbled over to Mason and gave the hammer back with the understanding that people and animals are not to be hit. With that out of the way, I go back to picking up the wood scattered around the crib. I could hear Mason hitting the concrete foundation, crack, crack, thud, WHAAAA! Uh-oh, our first smashed finger? Nope, I head over to see Mason crying and holding his forehead. Yup, forehead. He had brought the hammer straight back and connected the claw part of the hammer smack dab in the middle of his forehead. Ouch!
Fortunately, the only damage done were some tears and a welt. Mason and the hammer weren’t on speaking terms for about half an hour after the incident. But Mason couldn’t resist whacking things, only this time he kept his head off to the side.
I wondered why you were so eager to take Friday off…
Next time I’m hiring a babysitter!!