One of the infamous Chandler stories in our family is about the time Chandler burned his butt on the fireplace. I think it’s worth recounting.
When the boys were little, they would engage in a little competition to see whose butt could get the reddest. This was most often accomplished by standing at the French doors in our family room, baring their buns, and pressing them against the sun-baked glass. Surely this has happened in other households.
One day Chip was watching the boys while I was out. As soon as I walked through the front door, Chip said, “Lis, come look at your son.” Well, that’s never good.
I walked into the living room to see Chandler sprawled out on the ottoman, his bare bottom glowing a radiant red.
“What the heck happened?!”
Chip responded, “Chandler thought his butt would get the reddest if he put it on the glass in front of the fireplace while the fire was going.”
At one point, Chase came downstairs and assessed the situation. Thinking through how to best express honest sympathy for his little brother, he said, “Chandler, I’m sorry…..that….. you were dumb enough to put your butt on the fireplace.”
The poor kid could hardly put on pants, and I was afraid he might get an infection. So I took him to the doctor the next day.
The doctor took a look at Chandler’s blistered bottom, asked how it happened, and responded, “I’ve never really seen anything like this before.” Of course not.
As with most of Chandler’s wounds and injuries, eventually his bottom healed up.
And, what he would most want us to remember — he won.