My parents have officially moved to Utah. Have I said that already?
The other day, I was helping them hang pictures, and I had to hang one at the top of a stairwell. As tall and thin as I am, it was pretty much impossible to do without an extension ladder.
Since my parents don't own one, I skipped over to the neighbor's to borrow theirs.
The wife said they had a Little Giant and took me into the garage to get it.
This was my first encounter with a Little Giant. I thought it was going to be awesome to use such a versatile ladder. I had no idea it would weigh 485 lbs.
... And that one small fact is the source of my shame.
It was mounted on a couple hooks and tucked in a corner right in front of their family suburban. I walked up to the ladder without any real concerns and heaved upward.
It didn't budge.
As my face slowly turned a beautiful shade of crimson, I adjusted and heaved upward again.
I think it shifted about an inch.
As I tried to deny my defeat and try again, the wife shyly said, "Oh, my husband can get it down."
Yes. I know I don't have an ounce of muscle mass.
Yes. I know most 5-year-old girls can beat me in an arm wrestle.
On my third attempt, I managed to get it off the hooks and onto the ground. It was touch and go there for a minute as I almost staggered backward into their suburban, but I managed to avoid any lasting property damage.
As I stumbled away under the weight of the heaviest ladder ever made, she asked if I'd like her son to help me.
Trying to recover the last vestiges of my pride, I told her I was fine and made it back to my parent's house. It wasn't until I got there that I saw the bruise.
Little Giant: 1