not exactly truthful.
I don't really have special effects.
But I am going to do a real enactment for you, which is totally breaking new blogging ground for me. That's fancy, right?
So, in case I haven't laughed with you about it yet, I present the
Dancer's Date with the Garage Door.
You'll laugh, you'll cry (not really), you'll wonder what exactly goes on at Tapper's house.
It's a wild ride.
It all begins on a normal Monday morning. I have errands to run with the Dancer. I tell her to hop into the car and then I hit the garage door opener and turn around to grab my purse.
Two seconds later I hear a scream.
In a nanosecond my brain starts processing the sound.
(I never said she was a good actress)
Too loud, too protracted, too panicked.
Not quite pain. Maybe it's a bug scream (the tiniest gnats get those around here). But it's still going on.
Bee? Wasp? I run as fast as I can to the garage and I am completely befuddled to see my child hanging from the ceiling.
I lose one more nanosecond trying to process the sight and then rush to her and get there just as she looses her grip and falls to the garage floor. Luckily I dampen the crash.
(Because no children were harmed during this re-enactment and I do not own a cable suspension system, just pretend the Artist is not there.)
So the way it all plays out is this: The Dancer had the toddler urge to grab onto that fun moving door. While doing so she is unexpectedly hoisted into the air. She begins screaming, increasing her pitch and intensity, until she is suspended from the ceiling, at which time she falls into her mother's very surprised arms.
And that's a wrap.