The good news is that I could start the snow blower.
The bad news is that it is out of gas and that the safety elf tightened the top on the jerry can to make it unopenably except by said safety elf – who is currently in Afghanistan.
Now don’t mistake me, safety elf has taken great care to ensure I can perform such acts (like clearing the snow) which require a physical strength or stamina that ebbs and flows and may not be present on a day to day basis – like buying the best snow blower on the market to content with the hellish winter’s snow accumulation. And I appreciate these preparations whole heartedly. But I am continually bemused and confounded by safety elf.
Leaving shoes, clothes and backpacks on the floor strategically positioned to trip me and add to my fear of falling; using the safety stored gasoline to start a fire in the back yard pit that results in an explosion heard neighbourhood wide and brings out the haz mat team in search of a cook; driving with knees as hands are busy smoking and drinking coffee… small things admittedly, but odd and confounding in the face of safety elf’s obsession with locking, hiding, squirreling away combustibles and shredding AND burning any mail that contains personal information such as name or address.
Perhaps the theme here is fire? Does safety elf harbour a pyro within?
Is it possible that this is simply the remnants of the primordial fascinated with creating things that go bang and boom? More importantly, is there primacord hidden in my garage?
Surprise safety elf! I had a new garage built while you were away!