maxine in ri wrote:
> My DH, the energizer bunny, was home alone Saturday afternoon while DD
> was at the mall (where else do teens ever go?) and I was checking up
> on my Mom's house.
>
> We come back, and DD walks in the door after a trip to the hardware
> store, with a large bandage on his ring finger.
>
> "Y'know that kitchen knife I keep really, really, sharp?" he asks me
> after I just stared at his bandaged digit.
>
> More staring, so he continues "Well, I was slicing up some salad
> stuff, and it slipped. Good thing we live one block from the
> emergency clinic. By the way, the doctor told me not to get this wet,
> so you get to do the dishes."
>
> I had no problem with this, glad that my nearly beloved still has all
> his fingers. For his shower (don't get it wet, said the doctor) we
> wrapped his hand in a gallon storage bag.
>
> He did try to clean things up, but the places where blood flies when
> someone is panicking, are ingenious. Took me 2 hours to find it all
> and wipe it down.
>
> The stitches come out today. I'm debating what to do with the table
> saw downstairs....
>
> maxine in ri

Although I'm sorry for your husband, I loved your recount of the tale. My
husband won't even let me touch one of his very sharp cleavers. I'm the
world's biggest klutz. If anything can be dropped, broken, spilled, knocked
over, knocked into - look no farther than me. I'm not kidding - this goes
WAY back to childhood. My Dad's nickname for me used to be "Grace". :~)

kili