"See? Eating all those vegetables will kill you!"

I am feeling pretty vindicated about my life choices right about now, to be honest.

I've heard that story, but it's not a cute, wise child that comes up with the answer, it's an engineer who comes up with it. With the moral being that "smart people will get it fixed when everyone else is standing around with slack jaws."

And then, a tiny voice emerges from the back of a station wagon, and a five year old child asks, "Why not just let the air out of the tires?"

I've heard this as a brainteaser, I think.

I probably do eat about that much spinach in a year.

Even if you did and it was all contaminated, that would mean you had the exposure that is safe for plant workers to receive every year, year after year, and nuclear plant workers on average live somewhat longer than the general population. (That's probably because of the selection process of needing to be fairly bright and physically active, not because of the magic of radiation.)

Run. My mother spent the last eight years or so of my father's life getting up at 4 a.m.; changing the sheets; changing his diapers; moving him to his chair; and setting up lunch and drinks for him. Then she worked for 8 hours; came home; changed his diapers; made dinner; and washed his clothes and the sheets. She was hurt more than once trying to support his weight to get him from room to room in the house and to doctor appointments.

Hmm, not sure if this comment was directed at me or at Suela, but since you're quoting me, I will just say I don't need your mother's experience to go by, I can go by my own. I took care of my own mother for 7 years along with my husband and my brother. And it was much like you describe above, minus the bad temper as my mother was the sweetest dementia patient the world has ever known. Seriously.

Has everyone heard this?

It was a cliche when I was in grade school.

To reach the exposure allowed annually for power plant workers, you'd have to eat 41 pounds of spinach.

So that's where Popeye's superpowers come from.

Have I talked here about The Poisoner's Handbook? It's a crazy book about, um, poison, but one of my favorite things is how nearly any newly-discovered poison got turned into a beauty treatment, before they realized it was poison. Radioactive stuff was supposed to be good for you! And give your skin a luminous glow. Um, OK. Also, Marie Curie carried radium around in her skirt pocket! And died of radiation poisoning...

Burrell, I was thinking generally and certainly don't want to minimize anyone's experience. I don't think I could do what you did or my mother did and I'm in awe of people like you.

Allyson, I think I've heard something like that as a puzzler on Car Talk?

Consuela, I feel for you. My mom is heading down that path, and I really don't know what's going to happen. It's likely my sister will end up moving in with my parents at some point, but I don't know. My mom looked after her own mother for the last 7 years of my grandmother's life, and it was hard on my mom, as my grandmother would barely let her leave the house. After my grandmother died, my mom was all about going into a home, but as the possibility becomes more real, she won't even entertain leaving her house and I think ultimately she's going to fight against it. (Not that we're near there yet.) There's also the fact that my parent's house is in terrible condition, and if you say to them, hey, maybe you should fix your leaky basement, they both just say they're not going to be around for much longer, and why bother.