I remember a time I was building a little bird house in my grand parents backyard. My Grand dad leaned out the back door and told me no good would come of working on the Sabbath. Well, he'd no sooner got the words out of his mouth than I smashed my thumb with the hammer from my Handy Andy tool set. I couldn't believe it. Like he'd somehow foreseen the future. I still have that little tool set. It was satisfying not so many years ago to see my son out puttering in the garage with those very tools and to warn him not to swing a hammer on Sunday.
I've noticed that there seems to be an epidemic of "not-enough-time" going around. People constantly feel that they don't have enough time to be properly attentive to their families, to spend time with friends, to volunteer the way they'd like to, to fix and maintain their possessions and property rather than watching them run down. I'm also interested to know that this lack of time seems to have coincided with our society's decreased observance of any sabbath (Sunday, Saturday, whatever). Anecdotally, I know that people who regard it as their religious duty to "tithe", or give 10% of their income to a church, report that they always end up having enough money, whereas before they tithed, they didn't. (By way of full disclosure, I'll add that this has been the case in my own life.) I wonder whether taking the sabbath seriously might have a favorable impact on the chronic hecticity problem, too.
Here's one of my favorite proverbs: "A child must learn from the bite of the fire to leave it alone." I believe it comes from the Sioux. Years of camping and involvement in Scouting have shown me this again and again: kids will be incautious around fire--you'll see them taking risks more and more--and no amount of warning will change their behavior. Then they'll get just a little too careless, and suddenly (after a startled yelp) they'll have a lifelong respect for fire. The obvious caveat is that you've got to make sure they're not going to incinerate themselves or the surrounding landscape in the process.
I remember watching my younger brother shoot a .22 automatic pistol years ago. He was holding it with his thumbs interlaced behind the pistol, in such a way that one of his knuckles protruded up toward the rear of the slide--and was approaching a point at which the slide would predictably hit the tip of the upwardmost knuckle. I warned him about this two or three times--but he kept reverting to his knuckle-up position.
Finally, I saw him taking aim and noticed that, sure enough, his knuckle was directly in the path of the slide. Not too far, but the tip was there. I thought for just a second about warning him--but also had just enough time to assess that the gun was of a light caliber, the force behind the slide was not going to be enough to do much damage, and only the very tip of his knuckle was going to come to any grief. I stayed silent. He squeezed the trigger--"POP!" "Yaaah!" (he quickly removed his non-shooting hand from the gun and shook it, having received a disconcerting scrape to the knuckle of his non-shooting thumb). He never had that problem again, and I never had to warn him again. I don't know--maybe I was running an undue risk, and he might have dropped the gun and accidentally shot one of us dead--but at the time it seemed the wise thing to do, and it worked. Your mileage may vary.