One summer morning, when my age was still a single digit, I sat on our front porch with my oldest brother. He was using a blade of crab grass to make a whistle between his hands and I was envious of his skill and interested in learning the trick for myself. Somewhere along the line we started joking around and he told me to hold the grass between my thumb and forefinger and to hold tight while he pulled it out. I refused knowing that when you pull the wrong direction the grass blade is actually very sharp and is capable of cutting your skin. He assured me that this wasn't in the sharp direction and it would be fine. I now attribute my lapse in judgment to my enjoyment of his attention, but that's probably only jaded hindsight. I still believe people when I know I shouldn't. In any case, I held the grass, he pulled, and my fingers got cut. Sometimes we never learn, but sometimes that's okay.
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