It was Susannah’s eighth birthday. She jumped out of bed and put her feet into her slippers. There was a mouse in one of them.
Today she turns ninety-seven. She has checked for a mouse in her slippers approximately thirty-two thousand five hundred and seven times.
Allowing for one minute for each checking, that comes to roughly forty-five days.
She could have gone on a forty-five day wonderful vacation somewhere that provided a life time of happy memories and photographs, but, oh no! the time had to be wasted by checking for a mouse in her slippers. Or conversely, she could have gone on a forty-five day wonderful vacation and been killed in a helicopter crash or something. Or she could have met her husband on the wonderful forty-five day vacation and had kids. Or…
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