Bro-ken — /brōkən/ — adjective — 1. having been fractured or damaged and no longer in one piece or in working order.
Looking down at Mom’s favorite vase shattered and scattered all over the floor, one thought came immediately to my mind. Nope, it wasn’t going to her and confessing that I was the one who threw the dodge ball that bounced off Mark’s head and then the ceiling before “barely” bumping into the vase atop the kitchen shelf. And then causing the vase to fall, turning it into a sea of blue shards now all over the floor. After all, I knew the truth was only the last resort, and I still had three options — my three brothers
As Older Brother Richard, Big Brother James, and Twin Brother Mark ran out of the kitchen, it was clear to me what had to be done. First, I had to try to glue all the bazillion pieces back together, hoping Mom didn’t notice. Second, and more importantly if the first option didn’t work, I had to decide which one of my brothers I was gonna blame for breaking the vase.
Super Glue wasn’t invented by anybody living on Flamingo, but it was the glue of choice for my brothers and me. For example, after retrieving them from the vacant lot across the street, we used the glue to stick The Sister’s Barbie heads back onto their bodies. They no longer swiveled, but at least they were permanently attached. You’d think she’d have been happy we couldn’t use them again in our sling shots, but no. It seems The Sister wanted the Barbie heads to actually match up to the correct body.
One afternoon Super Glue was used to “accidently” glue Twin Brother Mark to the kitchen chair, and that’s what I told our dad. It was truly an accident. The puddle of super glue I’d left on the wood chair was intended for Older Brother Richard. Mark just sat down first. That was the only time one of us kids were glued to a chair, but not the only time we were glued.
Barbie doll heads can easily be Super Glued back to their bodies and can just as easily be glued to little boy’s hands. Even if it’s a Double-dog Dare (and your brothers promise it’ll be safe and nobody will get hurt), do not put Super Glue on your fingers and touch anything … especially your other fingers.
Switching out the regular glue that came with the airplane model with Super Glue is funny – right up to the point that your brother chases you around the room because he has assorted plastic plane parts stuck all over his hands. I could go on forever, but this story is about trying to put back together Mom’s broken blue vase, not about all the many ways we boys misused Super Glue.
It took over an hour, but I finally glued all but two pieces of the blue vase back together — those were also glued, but not to the vase. I didn’t understand why my parents got more upset about those two missing pieces than the fully “restored” vase. Besides, I knew they weren’t missing. I knew right where they were. They were “accidently” glued to Twin Brother Mark’s face.
But just in case one of your kids actually do use Super Glue like we did back on Flamingo, here’s some information that may come in handy. If someone is “accidently” stuck to a wooden chair by way of Super Glue, pulling them off and ripping their new pants is a good way to get your dad really upset about having to buy another pair, but not the best way to get them unstuck. Just have them slip out of their pants.
And finally, if little fingers do get Super Glued together, use what my dad use to fix almost everything: WD-40. Never, ever, under any circumstances use a razor blade — even if all three of your brothers say, “It’ll be safe, no one will get hurt.”
It wasn’t, and I did.
[Rick Ryckeley has been writing stories weekly in The Citizen since 2001.]
