A coworker—a "recreational" cyclist—has often razzed me about my bike-geeky appearance rolling in to work. He's particularly enjoyed commenting on my helmet ("I had one when I was TEN!" "Shouldn't you have a Spongebob sticker on there?" etc.)
Last Friday he was riding on the local bike route, was cut off and went over the hood of a car onto the road. He was back in the office yesterday with 30 stitches in his forehead. My only comment was something like, "That looks sore," but I had to summon up my will to keep from doing the "You should have listened to me" dance.
I'm not posting this to open up the helmet debate again. I guess it's just that, being married, I don't get to be right very often.