I recently used nail polish polish in place of facial toner. It was as unpleasant as you’d expect and it totally wrecked my manicure, too.
… I’m not so sure that brushing your teeth with peppermint-infused castile soap is all that much of an improvement. :eek:
When I was a kid, maybe 10-12 years old, I accidentally wiped some antifreeze onto my upper lip. It had gotten on my hand from the pavement or something, and I didn’t know it was there until I’d already gotten it onto my face. It burned like a motherfucker.
I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: Ben-Gay and K-Y should never be kept in the same nightstand drawer.
Further deponent sayeth not.
This wasn’t me, but a coworker. One evening after a long day, she reached into her purse to grab some eyedrops. Without even looking at the bottle, she leaned back and squeezed a couple of drops into her eye. As soon as she blinked, she realized her mistake. The bottle was actually nail glue (same stuff as superglue). :eek:
Another coworker took her to the ER, where the doctor had to painstakingly pick all of the bits of glue out of her eyelashes, removing most of them in the process. Once her lashes were free, he could open her eye and peel off the polymerized layer of glue. Shockingly, she reported that the worst part - other than the initial fear of going blind - was waiting for her eyelashes to grow back. That took over a month.
A lab partner managed to land a few drops of 18M sulfuric acid on my arm while sharing a fume hood.
I once discharged an entire lighter full of butane into my face while trying to refuel it.
When my roommate and I got her little boy a fish, I picked up some de-chlorinating drops for the water. A few weeks before that, I’d had a bad case of pink-eye and had some prescribed eye drops.
I normally changed the water for the fish, but she decided to do it one day.
The fish died the next day
“Um… you know I keep the fish drops in the kitchen, right?”
“No, the bathroom, isn’t it?”
“Those were my eye drops…”
Didn’t happen to me but to my foster sister, when we both were so into horses we kept a lot of horse stuff in our bedrooms. Gentian violet is an aerosol spray for superficial wounds in horses, but you would think that if you are looking in a mirror you would notice the extreme purple . . . she managed to spray both armpits before she screamed.
Then there was the time my sisters and I went camping and had packed up two identical unlabeled squeeze bottles, one with clear dish detergent and the other with cooking oil. We noticed that the dinner dishes were kinda greasy even after washing and the soap did suds up really poorly and yet did not put two and two together until the popcorn.
Two stories, bad & then worse:
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BAD: My bottle of canker sore gel was the same size, color, and shape as my decongestant nasal spray. I squirted hydrogen-peroxide gel up my nose!
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WORSE: On vacation. Utterly exhausted. Couldn’t find my toothbrush so I figured I’d borrow hubby’s. Rummaged around and found my toothpaste. Was immediately stunned by the bland, perfumey, creamy texture.
It was Vagisil.
Oh, that is one of our family stories – the time my dad brushed his teeth with Desitin, and then (loudly) complained to my mother that she should stop buying cheap toothpaste.
And your hubby can’t figure out to this day why, for a week or so thereafter, every time he brushed his teeth he got a hard on…
AAAH! And this is why I finally moved the bottle of witch hazel far from the bottle of saline. It was just a matter of time and sleepiness.
I once confused a small squeeze-bottle of earwax remover for a small squeeze-bottle of eyedrops. Once. :eek:
My nose and forhead was dry this past summer, and I accidentally put mayonaise on instead of moisturizing lotion.
Boy, did I have egg on my face.
You’re most welcome.
In junior high, there was a fad for cinnamon toothpicks. The store-bought ones weren’t potent enough for the hardcore chewers, so we bought cinnamon oil at the drug store and soaked our own toothpicks until they were almost ready to burst into flame. Once, while turning a batch in their pool of oil, I got an itch in a, uh, sensitive spot, and reached into my baggy pajama bottoms to scratch it without thinking.
Just a faint dab of cinnamon oil was about like a blowtorch; I think I damaged several parts of the house clawing my way to the shower, and never could quite adequately explain the incident to my family…
Bad cut on finger while doing some plumbing–and sent [now, ex-] wife to get alcohol. Poured it out of the bottle onto the gushing-blood cut. Hurt like hell…
Looked at bottle and she had given me DENATURED alcohol that we used for the fondue pot.
Not in the same ball park as most of these stories, but my first rule of thumb for homebrewing is: You’re not really homebrewing until you’ve sprayed yourself in the face with hot water.