Alright, so today I was fiddling around with the idea of a mini squirt gun. You know, one of those tiny things, maybe for a laugh or to gently nudge the cat off the keyboard. Sounds simple, right? A little tube, a tiny plunger, a drop of water. Done in an hour, tops.

But here’s the thing about "simple" projects when you’re someone like me. They rarely stay simple. It’s like they have a mind of their own. You start with a mini squirt gun, and you end up designing a fully articulated hydraulic system for a dollhouse. It’s a curse, I tell ya.

The Grand Plan Goes Sideways

I grabbed a few bits and pieces. An old pen casing, a tiny spring I salvaged from who-knows-where, a little rubber bit. My brain started going: "Okay, a single shot is fine, but what if it could hold, like, three shots? That’d be much more efficient for cat-nudging."

Then it was, "This plastic pen tube is okay, but wouldn't a tiny brass tube look classier? And maybe a more ergonomic trigger mechanism?" Suddenly, I wasn’t just thinking about a squirt gun; I was mentally drafting blueprints for the world's most over-engineered miniature water pistol. I even started sketching out a tiny holster for it. A HOLSTER! For a squirt gun that was supposed to be almost invisible.

You see where this is going? It’s never just about the thing itself. It’s about the process. And my process, well, it tends to meander. It’s like going to the shop for a pint of milk and coming back with a canoe because it was on sale and, you know, "you never know when you might need a canoe."

How I Know This Path Too Well

Why am I so familiar with this pattern of simple ideas ballooning into complex sagas? Oh, let me tell you. It’s not just this mini squirt gun idea. This happens all the time.

I remember one time, years ago, I decided to build a "simple" bird feeder. Just a basic wooden box, right? Well, I started thinking. "What if squirrels get in? I need a squirrel-proof mechanism." Then, "What if the seeds get wet? I need a drainage system and a proper angled roof." Then, "It should be easy to refill, so I need hinges and a latch." Before I knew it, I was looking up solar-powered cameras to monitor bird activity and contemplating a motion-activated water jet to deter pigeons (which, ironically, brings us back to squirt guns, doesn't it?).

• I spent weeks on that "simple" bird feeder.
• I bought new tools I didn't strictly need.
• The birds, when I finally finished it, seemed to prefer the old, crappy plastic one my neighbor had.

That project ended up taking over my garage for the better part of a month. My wife started calling it the "Avian Hilton Project." There were sketches, prototypes, the whole nine yards. All for a bird feeder. The original, simple idea was long gone, replaced by this grand vision.

So, this mini squirt gun? I poked at the parts for a bit. Thought about the brass tubing. Considered a miniature pressure chamber. And then I just sighed, put the bits in a little box, and decided maybe the cat could just stay on the keyboard for a while longer. Sometimes, you just gotta know when to walk away before you accidentally invent a new form of miniature aquatic weaponry. Or, more likely, just make a big mess and achieve very little, apart from a good story, I guess. And that’s today’s practical adventure for you!