So I am in the market for a new can opener. I need one, since I slammed my old, cruddy, worthless can opener into the trash with a vengeance on Friday night, right after I sliced my pinkie open.
Scott and I were all ready to head out to meet up with a group of old friends when Ella asked for a chicken sandwich. Needless to say there was no chicken sandwich and no date with friends.
Instead Scott and I plus the two little girls spent the evening at our friends house, having 12 stitches put into my finger at their kitchen table. I promised I would keep them anonymous so as to prevent them from having a long line of bleeding people at their door. But, Oh man was I thankful for the kindness, willingness and skill of these good friends!
Other than childbirth I am pretty sure I have never seen that amount of blood. I was at the kitchen sink with Ella kneeling on the counter and Cali wrapped around my ankle. Every time I moved my right hand off of my left hand- more bleeding. So making phone calls was not easily.
At first I couldn't get a hold of Scott so I tried my Mom while simultaneously ordering the kids to send all the neighbors home and get inside. My Mom came and was cleaning up the gore when Scott arrived, took one look and announced that we were going.
I was a puddle of sweat and blood. It was not pretty. No really it wasn't so if you have a weak tummy...
DO NOT PROCEED!
Thanks Mom, for always coming to the rescue...you really need a cape. Thanks Scott for always being the level head and for knowing with out being asked that I would-at some point in the night-want soup. Thanks Heather, for entertaining the boys. And thanks friends, for preforming kitchen table surgery and making me feel that it was no bother at all. You are awesome and I will never use my pinkie again with out thinking of your kindness!
Stitched up pinkies and crappy can openers. Ugg.