Sometimes I consider what might have come of my life, or what I might be doing today, if I'd have been born without any common sense, if my IQ registered somewhere just below that of a toaster oven, and if the thought of death or serious physical impairment was a siren song of irresistible enticement to my ears.
Then I'm reminded what that would look like:
Okay, all insults about toaster ovens aside, that looks incredible and I'm probably more jealous of a rush like that than I'd care to admit.
Nevertheless, enough vicarious living and back to helping my 3rd grader with her math (which is almost just as death-defying if we're being honest).
