Someone asked me this week if there was something that I would never do again. There are lots on the list. Here's one from the 1970s...
My mother had a matching pair of hand-crafted, wooden rocking chairs in her living room. The backs of each had an ornate opening that was very large at the top, and the cut-out narrowed sharply at the seat of the chair.
When I was about five years old, for whatever reason, I stood on my tip-toes and put my head through the wide opening at the top. I couldn’t stand on my tip-toes forever, so I slid down to the narrow part, and I got stuck. I couldn’t get my head out.
My mother tried pushing and pulling to no avail. Finally, she was able to rescue me by picking me up and sliding my head out through the top.