Stuck to the Floor
I was recently told of this little episode in my young life. Mom and Dad had come home from Fort Erie in 1945 and Dad was busy building our house. I was born in September of 1946 and the house was far from finished but livable. I had learned to walk and was exploring everything so I was probably a little over a year old.
Dad was installing linoleum in their bedroom one weekend and had put down a layer of glue on half the room to hold the tar paper in place. He wanted tar paper down as a bit of insulation before he laid the linoleum. While the glue was setting up, he grabbed a coffee and went outside to have a smoke.
Mom had just bought me new white boots and I was very proud of them and was toddling all over the place. I toddled on into their bedroom and ended up with both feet in the setting glue. My shoes would not move so I placed my hands on them to try and pull them up. Now my little hands were sticky and not coming off my shoes.
Being just a wee toddler, I started to cry rather loudly. Mom heard me and came looking for me. She finally found me in their bedroom, glued to the floor! She said many years later that she wanted to laugh out loud but figured she better not as I was crying my little heart out.
She ran out the front and told Dad what happened. Dad came running in and took in the rather sad little baby stuck with both hands and feet in a bent over position and certainly not very happy.
Dad very gently pulled my sticky hands off my shoes, and then he untied my shoes and lifted me up and out of my predicament. He gave me a quick hug and handed me off to Mom who washed my hands with strong soap until they were clean and then consoled me with a plate of cookies and a glass of milk..food always did the trick for me. I stopped crying and enjoyed my little treat.
Dad grabbed a can of solvent and worked around my new white boots and finally got them out. He spent some time cleaning them and soon they were like new again. I wasn’t sure if I wanted them on again. It seemed to me that they got me stuck!!!
Dad very quickly laid down the tar paper and the first half of the linoleum. He glued the second half of the floor and shut the door so no little toddler could get in. When he finished the job of laying the second half of tar paper and linoleum he carried me into the room and stood me up on the floor…”dance, Brenda…Daddy made a nice floor for you to dance on!” And dance I did!!