Dog Treat Confession

There was a box of animal-shaped cookies sitting on the counter. The front had a picture of a cartoon dog and the back of the box had silly word games. It was a disappointingly small box, but I figured some cookies were better than none and I popped one in my mouth. It was delicous! Thick texture and rich in vanilla flavoring. I threw some more in my mouth, grabbed the box, and headed for the stairs.
"What are you doing?" my mom asked.
"Eating," I replied through a mouthful of cookies.
She blinked at me and said, "Those are dog treats."
Sure enough, they were animal shaped, vanilla flavored dog treats. I blame the misleading packaging. Word puzzles on a dog treat box? What dog unscrambles letters while they snack away? But they were good cookies, I'll have you know. If my mom hadn't been watching I'd have finished the box and no one, not even me, would've been the wiser.
This isn't the first time I've misread a label and lived to regret it. One day I grabbed what I thought was a tube of Vagisil. Two minutes later I realized it was actually a tube of IcyHot. I'm sorry to say it took a while for me to put two and two together. My first thoughts were ones of panic, as I was deadly certain the California public bathrooms had given me an STD. I sat there, in pain, wondering how I was going to explain an STD to my family and imagining all sorts of other horrible things before I thought to check the label. I would've thought the minty-fresh smell would've tipped me off, but apparently not.
It reminds me of a story I was once told about my grandma. While using the bathroom after a particularily spicy Mexican meal, she spit on the toilet paper before using it for its specified purpose. I understand your pain, grandma.
I consider these geneticly acquired Lucy Moments, as we call them, a mark of hidden and untapped genius and I'm not alone in this belief. I've heard people read, for example, the warning label of cortisone cream stating that the contents are not to be ingested and they wonder what sort of GENIUS sticks cortisone in their mouth. I am that genius. Is it my fault that the cortisone container is the exact size, shape and color of my toothpaste?
I believe it was Einstien (possibly not) who said, "There is a fine line between genius and insanity. I have erased that line." What he failed to mention was that he erased the line because he was tired of misreading the labels.
And erasing lines and labels opens up a whole world of ways to spice up your life, some, perhaps, more embarassing than others.