The bond around here sticks like glue

The news probably has been out there for a long time, but I just found that our ear lobes never stop growing.
That’s just great—there goes one more part of my body headed south without my consent.
Perhaps I could postpone the imminent downward droop with duct tape. Goodness knows the super adhesive is my back-up plan for putting other things in their place.
I’ve used duct tape to hold my baby toe against its digit neighbour so it didn’t hurt so bad after I broke the little buddy kicking a big rock that I couldn’t pick up.
I’ve also used it to tape extra car keys to the underside of my car, although now that I’ve made that a public announcement, I’ll be forced to find another locations for said keys.
I’ve also used duct tape as a substitute for a hair removal system on my upper lip. I only did that once.
I seem to recall that my ex-husband, Peter, used duct tape to wrap my Christmas present. After the flat-stare look on my face, he only did that once, as well.
As an entertainment technique, I’ve used it to cement my five-year-old grandson to the kitchen floor. It was his idea, although I’m sure he got the inspiration from his Granny, who is well-known in her neck of the woods for her—albeit empty—threat cautioning her mischievous little peppers that ignoring the house rules will result in being duct-taped to the wall.
My grandson had a rip-roaring time in his attempts to extract himself from the vinyl flooring, and in the end required the assistance of his “taper” to wiggle free.
Oddly enough, the experience did not deter him from challenging the house rules five minutes after he was re-mobilized.
And all I heard after that was “Can we do that again, Granny?”
In my mind’s futuristic eye, I pictured my grandson standing at the front of the class during “show and tell” at school as the teacher asked him to share what he’d done over the weekend—and him blurting out in pinching detail that his grandmother had duct-taped him to the floor.
The teacher would make one call and I’d have a child advocate counsellor on my doorstep.
And while I did not follow through, I will admit I desperately fought the compulsion to duct tape my daughter’s 18-month-old Golden Labrador to the side of the barn after it ran like a wild racehorse through my yard headed for my garden during a recent dog-sitting weekender.
My own canine capers, which stood motionless on all fours with their jaws dropped open and struck stupid by the visiting terror, I think would have helped me secure their nemesis after she bowled them both over during a flying leap over my picnic table.
Using my Alpha voice, I threatened to duct tape the dog if she didn’t settle down, but my Hurricane Tribe must have tipped her off about my meaningless uttering.
However, I did put Mya on the end of a leash and tried to walk the excitement out of her. The result was my upper torso thinking it had just been “dragged down the street by two Great Danes.”
I came home dragging my knuckles on the gravel road and duct taped my popped-out shoulder joints back into their sockets.
Currently, as I sit here thinking about how to end this column, I realize I am pulling on my ear lobe.
What are some of the best duct tape decisions you ever made? Sometimes you know right away when you do that. Sometimes, it takes a bit of looking back over your shoulder to see that you did.
In this moment I cannot lay claim to the latter.
I looked back over my shoulder to see if I’d left the roll of adhesive on my dresser and a big wad of my nice long hair got stuck to a wide upended piece of duct tape that was sticking up from where I’d wrapped my shoulder joint.
Help.

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