When I was a young youth of maybe 9 years I lived in an apartment building in a small town in south-central-western-Pennsylvania. Bored one day, as was natural, I took a fire extinguisher off the wall and played around with it, eventually setting it off. RUN. I exited the building. A short time later--that is, it was almost certainly a short time, but it felt like a long time--I returned. The mess had been cleaned up and the extinguisher removed. I went to our apartment and... mom said nothing. NOTHING. Did someone else find it and did she not know? Or did she think I had done it to get attention, and figure the best thing was to pretend like it didn't happen? Either way, I was just happy that I didn't get in trouble. It would be many more years before I set off another fire extinguisher, though that is a story for another post.