The first my parents knew of my success was hearing me screaming and
rushing through to the room to find me and the room covered in pink
liquid.
Had a similar experience but with a small pocket knife instead of the
screwdriver and the room was colored red not pink. Dumb, dumb, dumb.



Count me among the not so bright. I sliced neatly across my wrist trying to
do the same thing. Of course I tried to hide the cut from my mother because
she had told us to quit doing that!