Pole licking

My phone started ringing as I was poking around the kitchen to make August and I breakfast. The caller ID said "Mitchel" so of course I answer with the appropriate amount of panic and annoyance, because the boys JUST left for school three minutes ago.
The conversation went something like this:

"Mom! I don't know what to do. Brayden has his tongue stuck to a pole." (Bray crying frantically in the background)
"What! How...where are you?"
"We aren't far, we are just on 5th street." (We live on 6th)
"Okay, okay I'm coming with some warm water. Stay with him!"

The tap had already started pouring while I was still on the phone. Waiting for the water to heat I grab a large sized cup. Dash to the back door where my boots are and slip my feet in. I leave them untied, run back to the kitchen and fill up the cup. Then my mind goes through my options with August who is asleep in bed. Being paranoid and frantic I grab his limp body and try to wiggle on his hat and coat. (It was -2 degrees outside) Finally, what seemed like ten minutes (but was actually two) I am heading out of the door, August in one arm and a cup of warm water in my other hand.
To my surprise Brayden and Mitchel were walking towards the house. He had freed himself.
My panic left and was replaced with the humor found in these situations. Being the kind of mom I am, I was halfway hoping he was still on the pole so I could capture the images of Brayden with his tongue stuck.

His shoulders rose and fell with small whimpers. We made our way inside the house. Mitchel was apologizing relentlessly. As I begin to get a choppy narrated version of events. (Apparently Brayden's class had an assembly the day before where the principal addressed pole licking.) Pole licking, of course, made its way into the boys conversation on the way to school. A game of rock-paper-scissors ensued and the loser was to lick the pole. We all know who that was.
Mitchel felt responsible. His eyes glossed over with empathetic tears as he tells me what happened. Brayden at this time is having some warm tea and nodding slowly. Fully embracing the humor in the situation I try comforting him while laughing. I bring up A Christmas Story, and how the classics teach us important lessons. Mitchel continues describing his own panic and how he was unsure if he should call 911 or me. He described their classmates walking by in awe of the situation and helpfully recommending to go get water. Mitchel concludes that "all of Brayden's crying" is probably what did it. He then demonstrated the heavy panting and sobbing that warmed up the area where the tongue and pole were fused. Brayden chimes in to explain his tongue did not "rip" off the pole, it "popped off".

Live and learn! I just never want us to forget these moments of natural consequence.