"Only the woman is wearing complete protective gear."
An observation my wife makes while we watch the [Bridge Breaking Competition]. A dozen engineers mill about, loading metal weights into buckets, and measuring when the popsicle sticks and dental floss contraptions slide, blow and explode into constituent pieces to the oohs and ahs of the delighted and dismayed onlooking crowd of grade school students and families. All of the engineers wear glasses, a few sport steel toed boots, though most have sneakers, and two hard hats are in attendance.
"Oh. That's interesting." says me, and softly led the thought to the background, there being more interesting things to think about. Crack! Crash! and another broken bridge suffers catastrophic ignomy and flies into pieces to the waiting floor and bucket. "Oh wow, that one supported 72kg!"
Applause. We leave. Time passes. Life goes on.
Four hours later I'm sitting in the emergency room clutching a fileted finger and cycling through alternating turns of waiting,