Fishing For Pacifiers (again)

Yes, that is a pacifier floating in the drain...

Kyle is talented at misplacing his mi-mis in hard to get places.  Perhaps misplacement isn't always the right word, because this predicament was precipitated by his intentional toss punctuated by the statement, "Oh, mi-mi!"  Within  a few seconds he looked at me, and in a very slow, sorrowful tone, pleaded, "I want mi-mi."  This on the heels of me fishing the same pacifier out of the very narrow (and very angled) floor heater vent in our downstairs bathroom.  Let's just say it was necessary to employ a flashlight, a mirror, a stick tipped in packing tape, an old metal coat hanger... and steady hands (Kyle sleeping five more minutes would have made the rescue a little less nerve racking).

I still had a few minutes before Ben got out of his classroom.  I began wondering if showing up early was more trouble than it was worth.  I checked my pockets, as I tend to carry tools.  I had a mechanical pencil and eraser, my pocket calipers, a screwdriver, my pocket multimeter... no string (though I was wearing two shoelaces), and no paperclips (mental note: carry some string and paperclips).  It occurred to me that I really should get a paracord bracelet; surely the harrowing story of pacifier recovery would qualify for their free bracelet replacement if it gets you out of a jam guarantee.  Since I was at an elementary school, I figured I would be able to procure some string and a couple paperclips from Ben's teacher when class was over.

A few minutes later I had some string and a makeshift grappling hook fashioned from two paperclips in hand, and was lowering the tethered assembly between the holes in the grate.  The pacifier kept floating behind that piece of wood you see angled in the picture.  The crowd of silhouetted heads over the top were children, freshly out of class, stopping by to see what was happening.  Since one of the positive design characteristics of the pacifiers we use is the collection of small (but not too small) holes on either side of the nipple, the pacifier was "catchable."

The biggest problem I had, besides being stepped on by a couple of the kids who came to watch me fish, was that Kyle was leaning over to watch while holding the broken dive suit Captain Barnacles Octonaut figure whose legs could slip out of the gap in his crotch... and I really, REALLY didn't want to have to fish for those, too.  So, I endured Kyle screaming for about ninety seconds with Barnacles safely zipped away in my jacket pocket.  I shortly had the proverbial bite on the line and had recovered the "mimi."

Ben was immediately excited to play with the "grappling hook," and it took the threat of a sure trip to the emergency room to discourage him from using it to scale a tree in the parking lot.

I was amazed that there wasn't more screaming for "MI-MI!!!" on the way home to boil it...