Circa 1956, when I was about 6 years old I was helping Mom mix something (tasty, I'm sure) in the electric mixer. Somehow my long ponytail got caught in the beaters and it pulled my head down to the bowl. My Mom kept her cool and extricated my hair from the beaters and we went back to the bathroom for a shampoo. She did not appear to have lost focus and I had no idea how upset with herself she was. I only learned that years later. Just think of all the kitchen accidents our Moms handled without any big fuss, just doing what needed done. Thanks to Mom, I love to bake. I do have a healthy respect for my electric mixer.

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