Rules Don't Care

The rule for cleaning up after broken glass safely is "sweep it up" rather than "pick it up." I knew the rule, but it wasn't for me at the time, so I bent down and picked up the tiny shard of glass. In a mosquito's second, it had invaded the tip of my right index finger. All the coaxing with tweezers, talk and tears embedded the sliver deeper into my skin, and it hurt.

Fast forward seven months. The sliver and I are still together.

Yes, I still flinch every time I use my right index finger, and I've been to a doctor.
He suggested we wait a little longer before "surgery" in case the glass behaves by the general rule of slivers and finds a way of escaping on its own.

The list of rules is endless and universal. Rules don't decide who, why, where or how their "gotcha" moments will or won't arrive. They just go on their merry way, unimpressed and unyielding to the disruption, joy or sorrow they might cause.

The truth about rules, minuscule or gigantic, is that another rule lies hidden in the wings.
It may not "getcha" this time, but don't worry . . . rules bide their time.
Rules don't care. They never care.
They just play follow the leader, where one rule leads to another and the best rules win.