My latest moment of brilliance
After making the door sign for work, I had a couple pieces of heavy duty, self-adhesive lamination left over. They were small pieces, maybe two or three inches in length tops.
As they were just sitting on my desk, I would regularly pick one or two of them up to play with them. I didn't remove the backs of them though, that would lose the stickiness.
Well, last night (this morning?) around 2:30 AM (you know, when I'm at my most alert and functioning self), I took the backing off one and started playing with it. As Kris came up behind me, glorious in his Axis and Allies win over the Germans, he asked what I had.
I turned, squishing my thumb on the sticky side of the laminate, and handed the laminate to him. "Here," I said, "your very own wife thumbprint to save forever."
"How's it look?" he asked, taking the square from me.
"Not so good." I replied. "It's all kinda fuzzy. Here," I continued, as I reached for the square, "how about a lip print?"
I pushed my lower lip onto the edge of the laminate and, as the sticky side touched skin, thought, "Uh oh."
What I was thinking up until that moment, what sort of brilliance was I demonstrating, I have no idea. Visions of A Christmas Story's kid with his tongue stuck to the winter flag pole danced in my head. Did I really think this heavy duty adhesive would release like wrapping tape? Was I destined to wait until my lip skin sloughed off before I could be plastic square free? Did I become an idiot when the clocks struck 2:00 AM? If so I needed to get to sleep now.
Without the adhesive square stuck to the bottom of my face.
"What are you doing?" Kris asked.
"Uh... trying to get this off?"
Apparently visions of tongues on frozen flag poles flashed through Kris's head, too, because he dissolved into guffaws of laughter.
Six layers of lip flesh gone and I was adhesive free, with vows to leave my lips to Kris' kisses.