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Last week, while Hubby was away, I decided that grilled cheese sandwiches, soup, apple slices and chips with a cookie dessert would be the perfect dinner; easy to fix and clean up and (most importantly) very kid friendly. So there I was, in the kitchen, being all domestic goddess like, when it happened.

cleaning lady

I can do it all and still look awesome!

Maybe I should back up a few weeks first. A friend of mine is selling Pampered Chef products and I agreed to have an on-line party since we live, oh, about 9 hours away and having her make that kind of journey didn’t make much sense. My on-line buddies cooperated and bought enough stuff that I qualified for things I’ve always wanted, but was too cheap to buy.

apple corer

It looks harmless enough...

So last week, on this fateful night, I decided to try out one of these awesome products- the apple slicer/corer. You know where this is headed, now, right? Feeling like the domestic diva that, by rights, I am, I confidently used the slicer, which worked much better and quicker than I expected. Only, the core was still in the contraption. Wisely, I found a knife and attempted to extract the core by pushing on it with said knife. As you would expect, my hand slipped and while the core DID fall out, it did so only after my knuckle (the index finger on the right hand; did I mention I’m right-handed? I am) made contact with the blades of the slicer.

My children were exposed (not for the first time) to a volley of obscenities as I tried not to cry and blubber on about my finger. It hurt. A LOT! Stoically ( yeah, right) I finished dinner while attempting to staunch the flow of blood. After about 30 minutes, it finally stopped and a friend advised me on how to treat the wound. Meanwhile, I was calculating when I could contact Hubby and tell him how miserable I was.

The next morning, since the darn cut began bleeding, AGAIN, I packed myself up and went to the doctor, convinced he would sew me up. But no such luck. I waited too long- you only have 8 hours after getting a cut to have it stitched up. After that, you’re screwed. I say that since, upon a closer inspection, it appears that while it looks to be a normal cut, I sliced my finger into a V on the top of my knuckle, ensuring that anytime I do anything (like say, change a diaper, open the door, drive, anything!) the cut will open up again.

It has been almost a week and the wound does not appear to me, who is the most impartial of all judges, to be healing at all. All that can be said is…poor me.

divaUpdate? Doctors are sadists who enjoy watching lesser people squirm.