Oh how the mighty have fallen! The 1925 chemist casually mouth-pipetting concentrated sulfuric acid—you know, just the stuff that can dissolve your organs—while today's lab coat warriors have existential crises over microscopic acetic acid splashes (basically fancy vinegar) on their gloves.
Back in my day, we didn't just flirt with danger—we took it to dinner, never called it back, and still expected lab results the next morning. Now we have three safety briefings before you're allowed to look at a beaker sideways. Progress? Perhaps. But something tells me Marie Curie is rolling in her (likely still radioactive) grave.