There is something that I realise I have done for ages that has only occurred to me this morning – why, this morning, I don’t know, perhaps it is the weakness I am feeling – that is potentially dangerous. My toaster lives in a cupboard and to use it one must first pull the toaster out of the cupboard in which it lives. I saw it today, I, actually, stick my finger inside the toaster to pull it out. The toaster is off, of course, but, none the less, I do wonder how safe it is? I’m guessing Sam wouldn’t be so keen on coming home to find me electrocuted on the kitchen floor. (Sure, there would be days… the messy floor plant withstanding)
I remember as a kid, down at Lakes Entrance at the Cozee Caravan Park, my brother, Will, stuck a knife into the toaster. I remember he had on rubber thongs, which seemed to insolate him from the shock. I think that is what happened, we are talking 48 years ago. (Oh dear, how old am I?) I remember dad hopping onto the situation with great gusto. I also clearly remember thinking, I never knew that you shouldn’t put a knife in a toaster. Good to know.
Funny the things you remember.