Shim-Me and Shake

There are a number of things I would rather not do with my father.
My mother, for example.
Write essays.
He's sort of useless for writing essays.
I'd rather do other things than help him with computers.
Apply mercuracome to my own wounds, for example.
But the top of the ladder?
(Semi-literally in this case)
Stand on scaffolding.
Though it has little to do with my dad.
And much more to do with a ten-foot drop onto 50-year old rusty nails.
We installed a window last week.
It was terrifying.
We had to take turns lifting it up three lengths of scaffolds.
I put in the number of lengths for Peter's benifit.
Because he knows how high that is.
The higher we got, the more I wondered if you could return windows after dropping them.
The very same set collapsed before, you know.
Mr. Gordon Hopkins plummeted off of them some time ago.
Onto his head.
Which he cheerily described to me while sitting on them.