kar·ma [kär'mə] noun, 1. The total effect of a person's actions and conduct during the successive phases of the person's existence, regarded as determining the person's destiny. 2. Fate; destiny. 3. Informal. A distinctive aura, atmosphere, or feeling: There's bad karma around the house today. (Answers.com)
Not too long ago, someone sent me a list of the many wonderful and amazing things you can do with a can of WD-40. I don't have the e-mail anymore, but you can follow this link to check it out: http://www.bloggingwv.com/45-uses-for-wd-40. You can also check out snopes.com for the low down on what WD-40's company actually recommends its product for: http://www.snopes.com/inboxer/household/wd-40.asp. Now that I have that out of the way...
I found the list of uses very interesting and, quite frankly, a little crazy. I sent it on to a few select friends that I thought might be up for checking out a few of the uses, or at least enjoying a good laugh. (One of my friends is a massage therapist who jokingly said he was going to use it as his new massage oil.)
A few weeks after I sent that e-mail, another one of my friends told me that he had picked up some WD-40 to clean his shower. He was very impressed with the results and told me his shower had never been so clean. The next morning my friend hopped in the shower. After two near death experiences in the span of 5 seconds, he realized he needed to wipe down the shower after cleaning it with WD-40. This is where the schadenfreude part comes in, yo.
I was helping the girls clean their room the other weekend - OK, I was supervising as the girls cleaned their room when we came across a can of WD-40. I was very confused. What do 13, 8, 6 & 3 year old girls need with a can of WD-40? Well, I had one of them put it in the bathroom so I could put it away with other chemicals behind our childproof safey locked cabinets. Are you ready for the karma part?
A few minutes later I walked into the bathroom. One step over the threshold and my feet flew out from underneath me. I narrowly missed cracking my head on the counter. I carefully stood up and my feet flew out from underneath me again. This time I noticed a funny little smell in the bathroom. I managed to get to my knees on the floor without killing myself and saw greasy spittle and slip marks all over the bathroom floor. Looking up, I noticed the can of WD-40 lying on its side, half on and half off the counter. I called the girls in to figure out who sprayed the bathroom floor with WD-40. As usual, no one admitted anything. It wasn't too hard to identify the culprit, though. Devlyn (the 3 year old) had a head full of greasy hair. That child thought she was putting hair spray on her head just like Jessica and aunt Amy.
The moral of my story? Beware when you take pleasure in someone else's pain, it can come back to haunt you.
I found the list of uses very interesting and, quite frankly, a little crazy. I sent it on to a few select friends that I thought might be up for checking out a few of the uses, or at least enjoying a good laugh. (One of my friends is a massage therapist who jokingly said he was going to use it as his new massage oil.)
A few weeks after I sent that e-mail, another one of my friends told me that he had picked up some WD-40 to clean his shower. He was very impressed with the results and told me his shower had never been so clean. The next morning my friend hopped in the shower. After two near death experiences in the span of 5 seconds, he realized he needed to wipe down the shower after cleaning it with WD-40. This is where the schadenfreude part comes in, yo.
I was helping the girls clean their room the other weekend - OK, I was supervising as the girls cleaned their room when we came across a can of WD-40. I was very confused. What do 13, 8, 6 & 3 year old girls need with a can of WD-40? Well, I had one of them put it in the bathroom so I could put it away with other chemicals behind our childproof safey locked cabinets. Are you ready for the karma part?
A few minutes later I walked into the bathroom. One step over the threshold and my feet flew out from underneath me. I narrowly missed cracking my head on the counter. I carefully stood up and my feet flew out from underneath me again. This time I noticed a funny little smell in the bathroom. I managed to get to my knees on the floor without killing myself and saw greasy spittle and slip marks all over the bathroom floor. Looking up, I noticed the can of WD-40 lying on its side, half on and half off the counter. I called the girls in to figure out who sprayed the bathroom floor with WD-40. As usual, no one admitted anything. It wasn't too hard to identify the culprit, though. Devlyn (the 3 year old) had a head full of greasy hair. That child thought she was putting hair spray on her head just like Jessica and aunt Amy.
The moral of my story? Beware when you take pleasure in someone else's pain, it can come back to haunt you.
1 comments:
Devlyn must have gone to the same school of hair styling I did.
You remember when HUGE hair was hip in the 80s? To get it REALLY tall you had to spray your hair with hairspray, and then use the hair dryer to dry it in place, then spray it again for good measure.
One morning, I couldn't figure out why it was snowing in the bathroom as I sprayed dry the hairspray.
It wasn't hairspray- it was Dow Scrubbing Bubbles- my head looked like a huge snow cone. After that, I didn't keep my hairspray under the bathroom counter with the cleaning supplies any longer. =)
Maybe Devlyn is the reincarnated soul of James Dean and all his slicked-back-hairy glory!
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