Now that I've banged the #@$% out of my knuckles and squished my fingers and broken two nails into the quick, got mad and went to get the dremel.
And that's neatly tucked away on the on the top shelf in the garage where even on my tiptoes on the top rung of my kitchen ladder, I can barely reach.
I got one off, but the other one won't budge no matter how much blood and colorful language gets hurled at it.
f*&^ it. He can get the dadgum dremel down when he gets home.
Now to do the other one.