Apple Cart

Carol Schiraldi

Don't turn over my apple cart. Don't run with scissors. What are you some kind of a nut? Do you really want fries with that? There's a certain quiet safety in just asking these kind of questions. I feel safer already, knowing that Mom watches out for me, knowing that I eat my vegetables for they are good for me. I like to tuck myself into bed at night knowing that it's safe and quiet outside, the door is locked, and the iron is turned off. You turn your irons off, don't you? I mean, I'd hate to go out and leave the stove on, wouldn't you? And that iron, why it's just as hot, isn't it?

Play it safe! Better safe than sorry. Better to sit quietly in a cube farm but have a regular paycheck. Better to lead a healthy lifestyle and not to take any chances. Don't date any bad boys: they are never good for you in the end. Look both ways before crossing the street.

Sure, accidents will happen but why take unnecessary chances? Is the risk really all that it's cracked up to be? Do you really want to jump off the diving board right into the deep end of the pool? I sure don't.

No, thanks! I'd rather not turn over that apple cart. I don't want to find out what might be on the other side. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to put that camera down carefully and make sure to tie my shoelaces so I, you know, so I don't trip.

What? Me? Take a risk? Come on now, I don't think so.

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