Early one morning, I go to the local hospital to have an outpatient procedure that involves general anaesthetic. My husband drives me home afterward and heads back to work. After I recover sufficiently, I decide to get a few small chores done.

That evening, my husband comes home to find me busy mopping up a small lake on the kitchen floor.

Me: “You know that paper they sent home with me that said I would be legally impaired for the next twenty-four hours and that I shouldn’t operate heavy machinery?”

Husband: “Yeah?”

Me: “Well, apparently, that includes washing machines.”