don't push that button

My oldest daughter rented an apartment downtown and has moved out.  Now, when you are 23, moving out means that you take what you want and leave the rest.  Someone else will pack it up for you.  Or, maybe you leave enough behind so that you can have two lives, one at your new apartment, and one at your parents home.

The parents hope that when a child moves out, that they will take their junk with them.  I moved the bed and dresser out of the room so you could move yours in, so after you move out, I am going to set the room back up as a guest room.

So there is a lot of junk that you have left behind that I must pack.  I am nice about it and I put things in boxes in ways that make sense.  I find a few things that I don't know what they are or what to do with them.  One of the objects is a small black thing that looks like a lighter.  Now it doesn't occur to me that you don't smoke, so why would you have a lighter.  What occurs to me is that I want to push the button and see if it is a lighter. 

I push the button.  I shouldn't have.  Instead of the flame that I am expecting, a brown juice comes spraying out, bounces off the wall and hits me on the left side of my face.  I knew immediately what it was.

Mace.

I should not have pushed that button.

If you have ever wondered, I can tell you that it takes about ten seconds for mace to take effect.  There is sneezing and coughing.  You cry like a baby.  You throw up.  All because you were trying to help your daughter pack up her room.  It lasts for about 45 minutes.

When you family finds out what is going on with you, they laugh.  Such cruelty.  Can you believe it?  Only a heartless person would laugh about Jeff accidentally macing himself. 

Anyway, the moral of the story is this.  Curiosity killed the cat.  If you don't know what it is, don't push the button.

It's a beautiful day in God's world, be sure to see the good.