Seeing that it was a very fine day, I began to carve a gnome. This little guy would be my masterpiece. Hours, then days passed as I worked on my gnome. From his ridiculously long beard and massive head to his tiny legs, feet and hands, he was, I felt, a perfectly executed gnome. “A gnome for the ages,” I thought as I painted his bright red coat, orange pants, black shoes, and pinkish face.
When the paint had dried, I proudly showed my masterpiece to the rest of my family. Apparently, some of them thought my glorious gnome looked like an older, shorter version of me. –John Montgomery
I buy glue by the gallon to save a few bucks, but I’d grown tired of cleaning up spills caused by trying to pour glue from the large, unwieldy jug. So I ordered a smaller squeeze-type bottle. Unfortunately, the new bottle arrived with a hole in its bottom, so I requested a replacement. This would have been the perfect time to chuck the holey bottle in the garbage, but I left it on my workbench, instead.
After making sure the replacement bottle was sound, I put it on the bench while I retrieved the gallon jug from the other end of the shop. While returning with the jug, I made a detour to check on another project. Eventually, I got back to the bench, filled the bottle to the top, screwed on the cap and called it a day.
When I entered the shop the next morning, I immediately noticed that something was wrong: Like sentinel pines guarding a calm yellow lake, two empty glue bottles sat on opposite ends of my bench, separated by a perfectly smooth layer of dried glue. Doh! I’d filled the wrong bottle! –Luke Steeves
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