Some Things Work Better On Paper

I'm a genius when it comes to bright ideas. And in theory they're good ideas. But somewhere down the line, I calculate wrong and end up in a rough spot...which generally ends in me getting hurt. Physically.
When I was small (I say 3. I was little and I had a brother by that point so 3 is a good assumption) I wanted to play outside. I'm not an outdoorsy person so when I "play" outside, it generally involves swings or wagons or something that doesn't require me to get dirty and/or sweaty. My parents were in the garage doing whatever it is parents do and there was a green bucket-esque object with handles and wheels. I was positive that if I could just get in, my mom would push me around and a good time will be had by all. What I didn't count on was the balance that 2 wheels does NOT have when you're climbing. And so the grass seeder fell...with me in it. And as I cry, what does my mother do? She runs in and gets the camera. (There are pictures!! Documentation of my first brilliant idea that I can recall.) Lesson: Grass seeders are not wagons.
When I was 8, my cousin (who is a giant. I'm positive he was 7 ft tall when we were in 2nd grade) and I decide that we are going to sword fight on the bed. Calculating my attack while trying to avoid being hit by a Gulliver with a plastic sword, I jump forward, thrust, and jump back to avoid his retaliation. Where did this plan fail? Where the bed ended. And so I fell...and he laughed...and I cried. Not only did I fall but I landed on the air vent in the floor and sliced a chunk out of my leg. Good times! Lesson: Giants and swords on beds don't mix.
I think one of the most brilliant plans I had as a child was the garage door. Unfortunately, it was much more beneficial for the boys in the neighborhood than it was entertaining to me. We had an automatic garage door and I had my brother hold the remote, grabbed the door, and up I went. What I didn't think of was the garage door going into the ceiling of the garage...and the outter handle going with it. So I hung from the garage door with my brother and the neighbor kids laughing, my hands stuck underneath the door, crying. Would they push the button to let me down? Nooooooooooo!!!! They just laughed and pointed and said "Great idea!!" My dad came out to see what was going on and vengeance was mine! Yeah...I told him it wasn't MY idea but that they were sneaky and waited til I had my hand on the door and opened it. He was so mad it never occured to him that garage doors do not move at the speed of light and it was entirely possible for me to let go prior to being sucked underneath the ceiling. Thank God for parental rage...otherwise my parents may have known what a genius I was. Lesson: Hold the inside handle.