"Nicky's stuck to Regent Street"

(note from Tony: Before we head full-steam into summer, here's one more "winter" story. Hey it was 40 degrees here in Chicago yesterday...)

guest post by Nick Jacobs

In the house beside us lived two of the most incredible people in the entire world, Bob and Wilma. They actually helped us raise our kids from first grade through adulthood. Each morning we took them to their house where they would watch cartoons, eat toast with homemade jelly and dried apricots while they waited for the bus, and everyday Bob would say "Anybody get whipped at school yesterday?"

One morning, however, the kids asked if they could wait for the bus at their friend's house about a half mile away. At 7:30 AM, however, a call came through at work to the kid's mom. It was a call from Wilma. Wilma was NOT the person with whom the children were left that morning. Consequently, the call didn't make any sense. Why would Wilma be calling?

The call started out something like this, "The bleeding has almost stopped."

For those of you who have read any of these stories in the past, your mind automatically should take you to the boy child. Sure enough, this phone call was not about our angelic daughter. The kids were in first and third grade, and the bulk of the first and third grade neighbors lived a half mile down the road from us. So, periodically, the kids would ask if they could go to the neighborhood bus stop and wait for the big yellow bus with their buddies.

Included in the pack of kids were Anthony, Eric, Michael, Jen, Ricky, Jason, and Nicky and Joey would join them for that morning ride. This particular morning it was winter cold, and the kids were standing around the Regent Street sign when this saga began to unfold.

Wilma called the kids' mom and started out the conversation with her like this, "Now, don't worry. The bleeding has almost stopped." The bleeding has almost stopped? The bleeding has almost stopped! What bleeding? Where was he bleeding from? What caused the bleeding? How did he begin to bleed? As you might imagine, this was not exactly an easy phrase to hear as a parent.

It turned out that, as the kids were waiting for the bus, one of the fourth graders dared Nicky to lick the sign post. Now, we've all seen the movie, The Christmas Story, but it came out after this particular incident, and, because he was growing up as a country kid, pre the 911 street naming requirements, there weren't many street signs around. So, when the fourth grader dared and then double dared him to lick the street sign, it seemed like a no brainer.

The problem was that it was about ten degrees above zero outside that day, and the sign post as cold as the inside of a refrigerator freezer. So, when Nicky put his tongue on the pole, it stayed firmly in place. Several years later he said that he knew he was in trouble when he saw the bus coming out of the corner of his eye and his tongue was still fastened to the sign. So, he licked the sign.

It wasn't ten seconds later that Anthony, a first grader, ran quickly into his house screaming, "Mommy, mommy, Nicky is stuck to Regent Street."

Well, he pulled his tongue away, grabbed the tissues from Anthony's mom, got on the bus and started to bleed. By the time the bus was in front of Wilma's house, the driver decided that he had better get off the bus and get some help. Hence the call from a different location.

That night was the date of the annual Cub Scout Regatta. We had worked on his boat for some time the week-end before. For those of you who are not familiar with this event, it involves a few dozen kids with hand made boats and sails lined up in competition, blowing their boats down rain spouts filled with water.

As usual, I was late leaving work that evening, and put the pedal to the metal to try to make it in time to see the little boy participate in the race. Unfortunately, a State trooper had a very different opinion about my arrival time, and gave me my very first ticket.

As I pulled into the school, ran into the building and ran up to the line, I had arrived just in time to see Nicky begin to blow on his boat, but something was wrong. His tongue was wrapped in gauze. He looked up at me after trying hopelessly to blow on his boat sail and said, "I knewww I thoud never have licked that sine!"