I blame it on the impulsiveness of youth. When you’re young, you think that you’re invincible. You think nothing can harm you.
Us older folks know better. We know to be cautious about what we do. We understand that even the most innocent things can be harmful. So we proceed carefully.
I’m sad to report that my impetuous teenager did not yet know these lessons. Or, if she did know them, she chose to ignore them.
It stormed all day yesterday, perhaps a cosmic warning of what would happen later. Our mailbox is across the street and down a little ways, so there was no way that we were going to get the mail until today.
My daughter was over at a friend’s house, so I figured that I’d better check the mailbox on my way to pick her up. When I opened the box, I immediately spied the instrument of my demise. The package was innocent-looking enough, but despite its weight and size, I knew the danger that lay within. I tossed the package not so carefully into the back seat and hoped that no one would notice it.
My daughter did though. She immediately grabbed it and, as she was asking, “May I open it?”, she ripped it open, grabbed everything within, and promptly died.
I cannot begin to express my sadness. It should have been me.