I’m not allowed to play with super glue. I know you’re probably all like, but Megan, you’re a grown woman who pays her bills and just bought a shiny new bike. Surely using super glue is within your grasp. You’d think so, but it’s not.
When I was in college, I was sitting in my dorm room sewing my pointe shoes. After you sew the ribbons on, it’s a good idea to put fray check on the ends of the ribbons to keep them nice. Well, the school store didn’t sell fray check, so I bought some super glue. I tried to cut a little bit off the end of the bottle, but it ended up being a gaping hole. So when I squeezed the tube, admittedly a bit harder than I should have, all the stinking glue came out on my hands.
I didn’t know what to do! I had never had two hands coated in super glue before! So, I picked up my phone and tried to call my mother, but my hand stuck to the phone! I ran to the door to go down the hall to my friend’s room, but my hand stuck on the knob! With sheer strength of panic, I turned the knob and ripped my hand away, leaving behind bits of glue and probably a little skin, too.
I ran down the hall to my friend’s room and knocked on her door, but the globs of glue on me knuckles were still wet (please read the previous sentence with a bad Irish accent). So my knuckles stuck to the door! Luckily, my friend was home because when she opened the door to her room, I walked right on in with a phone glued to one hand and the door glued to the other.
The super glue incident of freshman year has gone down in history as one of the most tragically and comically unfortunate things I have managed to do. And since I was dating my husband at the time, he has never trusted me with super glue since. I did cheat twice. Once, I glued my fingers together. Once, I glued my fingers to the bottle. And then I gave up.
Super glue, you are the mountain I cannot conquer. But hey, here’s a picture of my pretty bike!