Squished In The Window Of Opportunity

When I was little, my family’s main vehicle was a huge silver minivan. While the front windows rolled down like normal car windows, the back windows were in a “child-safe” style; instead of rolling down, the bottom pushed out, presumably so no child could fall or throw anything out. This meant that sticking one’s fingers in the gap allowed the enjoyment of a nice breeze on the fingertips.

One afternoon, I had my fingers in the gap for just a touch too long, and my mom pushed the button to close the back windows a bit earlier than I was expecting, so with a little whirr, they closed, squishing my fingers. It didn’t hurt, but I pulled a little and they didn’t come out.

Me: “Hey, Mom?”

Mom: “Yeah?”

Me: “Can you open the window again for a second?”

Mom: “Why?”

Me: “My fingers are stuck.”

She freaked out, immediately opened the windows so I could get my hand out, and fussed over me for a while no matter how many times I told her I was fine.