Maybe you trusted I had the skills to untangle the wires of your beloved slinky, or the know-how to coax the piece-of-shiitake plastic back to its original form. I like to think I was your last hope. But more likely, it ended up on the counter because I asked you to clear the table, and we both know that “clearing the table” is synonymous in your brain with, “take my beach shovel and take loads over to the counter.”