I've always been one to handle things carefully: or try to, at least. In the days of vinyl records, I faithfully kept the sleeves and extended my thumb and middle finger to balance the record so I didn't get thumb prints on it. I rarely broke dishes or glasses. I didn't sit on spectacles and avoided eating from expensive china just so I didn't drop it. Not so my partner, who has never met a breakable object that she didn't want to test the laws of gravity on. I have generally considered this a liability, especially when on yet another trip to buy more pre-broken objects for the kitchen. However, a recent occurrence has forced me to revise these ideas.

The other day our cable modem went out, and neither the repairman, nor the diligent pressing of off and on buttons, nor plugging and unplugging could get it to work. Admirably resisting the tyranny of technology, Mia simply lifted up the box and dropped it (accidentally, she claims). Lo and behold, it immediately started working.

So, as Fagin says in Oliver, I'm reviewing the situation. If you want to fix something, perhaps you should just let it go, release it from your hands and let nature take its course. Of course, I'd suggest this might not be the best policy for countries in the Middle East and Central Asia: the current administration's policy of drop and smash does not appear to be mending what wasn't working. So, for now, I'd stick with small boxes. Don't worry, if the things remain broken, you can always get a job in the federal government.