By Rick Ryckeley
Fayette County Fire & Emergency Services

Okay. Mister Safety here was using the wrong tool for the job (an entire story just on this subject will soon be forthcoming) and ended up cutting his hand and having surgery to repair a tendon. The worst part of it is that Mister Safety can't blame it on anyone - not The Boy, not The Wife, no one but himself. Bummer.

Now Mister Safety's laid up at the house for two weeks with nothing to do. The first couple of days at home have been painful, but now things are a little better and the slow process of healing is setting in. Boredom is setting in also. After watching all of this month's movies on satellite in just two days, it is time to venture out on a road trip. Yes, dear reader, its time go to the video rental store.

Walking up and down the aisles reaching for every guy movie that, through the years, has somehow missed my viewing, a strange feeling comes over me. As I look down and see nineteen videos in my basket, not one is a "chick flick." I think, "Should I be concerned? Should I be worried? Should I go back and pick up at least one?" Then the feeling passes as quickly as it came, reason comes back to me and I arrive at the check out line to pay for the $85 of movie rentals. But the haunting feeling that I'm forgetting something important still remains.

Then it dawns on me. "Mister Safety, you can't watch all of these movies without popcorn. Buy one large box of microwave popcorn, get one free and some soft drinks to wash it all down." (No, there will be no adult beverages consumed. Only water and soft drinks. You don't mix medication with adult beverages....remember Mr. Safety here, ya know.)

"And make sure itís the good kind made with real butter, not that imitation stuff you sometimes get at the movies. No, sir. It's gotta be the high-cholesterol-clot-your-arteries-grab-your-chest-dial-911 butter. It's the only thing to pour over popcorn while you watch 38 hours of guy movies."

Once back home, everything is made ready. With the theater surround-sound system and phone recorder on, popcorn popped, curtains pulled (so there's no glare on the wide-screen TV) and four remotes at hand (no pun intended) the movie watching can now begin.

Never in the history of mankind have there ever been 38 hours of guy movies running on a wide-screen TV without being interrupted by telephone calls, children's programs or decorating shows. Laser beams, explosions, missions to Mars, time travel, and the great wars of our universe and others were all brought into the living room by the marvel of modern technology. As hours roll into days and Mister Safety's hand starts to heal, I realized one important fact about watching movies day after day. Watching nothing but guy movies for seven days straight makes one week (sorry about that one).

The Wife came home and asked, "Why aren't you watching your movies?"

"I've watched them all, and now I have nothing to do."

"Well, you could help me by going grocery shopping and doing some laundry. When you're in the store, only get the essentials and make sure you separate things the right way."

In my weakened state I said, "I'll help and go to the grocery store, and I think I can figure out how to do the laundry been doing it for years. And don't worry. (These are the words spoken by someone about to mess up or get into trouble...in my case, it's both.) I'll make sure things are separated the correct way."

At the grocery store, only the essentials are bought: chips, dip, double stuff Oreos, toilet paper, ice cream (vanilla, of course) and milk. Heading for the checkout line, I whipped the cart around the corner and pulled it into the video rental area and rented one last guy movie. Standing in the checkout line, I could not help but notice that the contents of my cart were vastly different from the ones around me pushed by the other Dads. Where I had just the essentials, their carts were full of fruits, eggs, meat, and vegetables with nary a double stuff cookie to be found. "Boy," I thought, "Someone's gonna be in trouble when he gets home for buying non-essential items."

Remembering what The Wife had said, I instructed the cashier to make sure that he separates the groceries correctly. He just looks at me funny as he hands the change back and asks, "Are you helping out with the shopping?"

"Of course," I said. And with that Mister Safety walked out to the truck thinking, "You know, I'm really a good husband. Now that I've done the grocery shopping, I think I'll help out even more by doing some laundry."

Upon arriving home and putting away the essentials, I started the laundry. All jeans went into one load, towels and colors went into another, and all underwear (regardless of color) went into the last load.

For those of you who don't have the pleasure of doing laundry on a regular basis, there are a couple of rules that Mister Safety will let you in on now which will save you a lot of grief when The Wife comes home.

The first lesson learned: towels are washed by themselves; to wash them with anything else will get fuzz on the anything else.

The second lesson learned: if you have little ones, check all pockets for rocks, Pokemon cards, and especially Chap stick.

Third lesson learned: all underwear is not the same. If it's not white, don't wash it with white, because the outcome will be all pink.

The fourth lesson learned: The Boy will not wear pink underwear.

The last lesson learned: Mister Safety should not go grocery shopping or do laundry unsupervised.

[Rick Ryckeley is employed by the Fayette County Department of Fire and Emergency Services. He can be reached at saferick@bellsouth.net.]

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