I rock large appliances and furniture back and forth, ensuring that my body is beneath them.

I remove all tags from my towels and mattresses before purchasing.

I light lighters ANYWHERE.

I lean small children against window screens while the window is open.

I press irons up to my face to see if they’re hot enough to iron my clothes. Then I leave them hot and face down on top of my linen shirts while I make a smoothie.

While I’m making that smoothie, I leave the cord dangling where small children can grab it (at least, those children that haven’t yet fallen out of a window).

Back to that iron I left on: if the shirt I’m wearing seems wrinkled, I iron it while I’m still wearing it.

I ingest anything liquid from any container or receptacle.

I take all the small parts I can find and mix them in with baby toys.

If the iron or blender—or really any device—ever has a problem, I will attempt to repair it while it is plugged in, turned on, and moving parts are still moving.

I remove my safety belt and exit all moving vehicles before they have come to a complete stop.

I inflate and deflate the value of my real estate in order to secure loans and avoid paying taxes while sexually assaulting women and then paying them off to stay quiet.