Welp... she did it again.
For the sole purpose of making this story easier to tell, let's call Boyfriend, "#1", Girlfriend, "#2", and the Sweet Potato, "#3"... mmkayy??
We were waiting for our neighbors to stop by and #1 and #2 were super anxious and bouncing around like maniacs while I sat on the couch nursing #3.
I suggested #1 and #2 go stand at the front window and watch for their friends.... translation: give #3 a few seconds to eat in peace.
They were gone about one minute when #2 started screaming and crying in a panicked voice... she screamed, "I'M STUCK! I'M STUCK! I'M STUCK!"
Her ever helpful brother, #1, must have taken one look at her, decided it was beyond his realm of brotherhood and ran out of the room yelling, "SHE'S STUCK! SHE'S STUCK! SHE'S STUCK!!"
I unlatched #3 and ran to the front room amidst panicked cries from all three kids now...
#3 because hello... I was eating.
#2 because... MOM I'M STUCK!
and #1 because MOM! SHE'S STUCK!
I ran directly to the bassinet and put down a sad #3 ... who decided at that very moment to become one of those babies that hangs onto hair like it's a fafillion dollars.
I put him down and my littlest boyfriend yanked my head right down into that bassinet with him.
He had his hand wrapped so tight around my hair that there was seriously no way in Hell for me to get out.
Now I was panicking.
I was stuck and removing myself from the screaming, crying, newborn's grasp would probably mean really freaking hurting him cause those teeny tiny fingers are fragile as Hell... ya know?
Plus?? When did my newborn become the Hulk?
The kid had me in a hair head lock... for real, I was stuck head first in a bassinet.
And while I was stuck... the panicked cries from my Girlfriend, and my Boyfriend were just getting louder and more anxious.
Also? I still had no idea where she was stuck... as it turns out kids that are having panic attacks are not very precise with their details.
They just kept screaming, "SHE'S STUCK! I'M STUCK! STUCK! STUCK! MOM! MOM!"
When I finally freed myself from baby Hulk's grasp, #1 was running back and forth with his arms over his head like a tiny Kevin McAlister in Home Alone like, "WAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!"
So much emotion that the kid had no idea what to do with it except, apparently, run and scream.
Which left his poor sister, #2... stuck.... again... in the floor vent.
Except this time it wasn't her fat thigh... it was her teeny, tiny, peanut of a baby toe.
Which was just fat enough to get itself stuck in between the vent grates...
When I finally reached her the tears were pouring down her face and I picked her up, thinking... Dear God, do not let the floor pull back this time... do not let the floor pull back.
And of course... it did.
I picked my Girlfriend straight up into the air, and one leg stayed stuck solid in the floor.
She was sobbing now and #1 was screaming down the basement stairs to his father, "DAD!! EVERYONE IS STUCK!!! EVERYONE!"
Before Husband could get upstairs I somehow yanked #2 out of the floor.
She refused ice and instead just wanted to scream and yell and hang onto her piggy toe for dear life.
After about ten minutes everything had calmed down and numbers 1, 2, and 3 had all stopped crying.
All that was left of the harrowing, "EVERYONE'S STUCK!!!" tale was a black and blue on #2's foot, and a fist full of blonde hair in #3's tiny little hand.
By dinner the kids had long forgotten all the commotion that had taken place hours earlier...
I was still shaking my head and laughing every few minutes, all by myself...
Because seriously... shit like this only happens to me.