So Many Dumb Ways to Die (it's catchy)
This morning I finally moved Martin's enormous Bogs boots from the bottom of the garage stair. I've been stretching my legs to step over the size 12, high-calf boots for days now, and suddenly this morning it occurred to me: Why wait? Seize the day. Move the %#$ boots yourself.
I have a long history of this silent protests of these kinds: leaving Martin's hammer balanced on a pile of tools just where he left it (kitchen counter, maybe), not wanting to nag but also not wanting to fold so easily. It's the principle of the thing. Usually I leave them for a week or so and when he still doesn't notice the tube of spackle on the washing machine, I end up putting them away anyway.
There was one time I stood my ground, though--I left two cans of paint on the top of the basement stairs for over a month, waiting for Martin to note that they needed to be carried downstairs and put the heck away. This was an ill-fated experiment, since one night at midnight, after completing some tedious home project, he finally noticed the paint cans--because he had accidentally kicked them down the stairs. The top popped off and thick, viscous paint deposited itself all the way down the stairs and splattered up the wall at the bottom.
Needless to say, the stairs received a new coat of paint that night. Martin was not impressed by my defense of having firmly stayed my moral ground, and then, as today, it sometimes dawns on me that accidents could be avoided if I offered the man a little grace in his few forgetful moments. He's a good man who gives constantly--surely I can put his shoes on the shoe rack once and a while.
So this morning, after a stand-off of many days (which was entirely one-sided, since he'd never noticed) I saved the whole family's necks by picking up those Bogs. I placed them upright about a foot away, and voila! My life is just that much easier. I couldn't help calling in my passive-aggressive way (I save it for special, meaningful occasions such as this one): "I'm surprised I haven't KILLED myself on your rain boots. They're right in the way!"
Martin called back: "Seems you might choose a better way than that [to die]."
Passive-aggressive me gets no respect around here.
Which now brings me to this fantastically ghoulish but charming video (which was the whole purpose for this post, anyway), distributed by the Melbourne Metro PSA as I reminder to its patrons that there are many dumb ways to die that could easily be avoided if. . .Well, just watch it yourself:
Melbourne Metro PSA VIDEO
Happy Friday, all!
I have a long history of this silent protests of these kinds: leaving Martin's hammer balanced on a pile of tools just where he left it (kitchen counter, maybe), not wanting to nag but also not wanting to fold so easily. It's the principle of the thing. Usually I leave them for a week or so and when he still doesn't notice the tube of spackle on the washing machine, I end up putting them away anyway.
There was one time I stood my ground, though--I left two cans of paint on the top of the basement stairs for over a month, waiting for Martin to note that they needed to be carried downstairs and put the heck away. This was an ill-fated experiment, since one night at midnight, after completing some tedious home project, he finally noticed the paint cans--because he had accidentally kicked them down the stairs. The top popped off and thick, viscous paint deposited itself all the way down the stairs and splattered up the wall at the bottom.
Needless to say, the stairs received a new coat of paint that night. Martin was not impressed by my defense of having firmly stayed my moral ground, and then, as today, it sometimes dawns on me that accidents could be avoided if I offered the man a little grace in his few forgetful moments. He's a good man who gives constantly--surely I can put his shoes on the shoe rack once and a while.
So this morning, after a stand-off of many days (which was entirely one-sided, since he'd never noticed) I saved the whole family's necks by picking up those Bogs. I placed them upright about a foot away, and voila! My life is just that much easier. I couldn't help calling in my passive-aggressive way (I save it for special, meaningful occasions such as this one): "I'm surprised I haven't KILLED myself on your rain boots. They're right in the way!"
Martin called back: "Seems you might choose a better way than that [to die]."
Passive-aggressive me gets no respect around here.
Which now brings me to this fantastically ghoulish but charming video (which was the whole purpose for this post, anyway), distributed by the Melbourne Metro PSA as I reminder to its patrons that there are many dumb ways to die that could easily be avoided if. . .Well, just watch it yourself:
Melbourne Metro PSA VIDEO
Happy Friday, all!
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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bIy6w_iubSs