I want to let those of you who don't know this know that I am 52 years old and soon to be 53 and while my Wii has finally said I am bodily 48 I feel many times older than my neighbor who repeatedly tells me he is 90 something.
With that said, one can surmise that I have been in and around kitchens for at least 43 or more years and with the exception of an occasional burnt finger from popping grease, a cut finger from cutting a bagel the wrong way, I can say my life in the kitchen has been pretty uneventful. That is.........until..............last night!
I was cleaning up the kitchen after dinner and putting dishes in the dishwasher when a paring knife slipped out of my hand and landed perfectly in my big toe! Unfortunately when I was cleaning the dishes, it seems I had put on my sandals instead of my steel toed boots that are now required kitchen wear and it hit my toe.
Now, it didn't stick, but it dropped straight into it and the very pointy tip pierced my toe. Okay, stop laughing, this is serious business! It hit, pierced my toe and feel onto the floor. I looked down, screamed in pain and said it is nothing. The kids were running to get the first aid kit and I told them it is just a tiny poke, I don't need a bandage.
Well, from my kitchen to my dish closet is about feet or less and by the time I reached the dish closet, the blood was running down my sandal. I mean, figure the odds it would hit and cause so much blood and such a huge fuss in the house.
What is odd about it, is that several hours later I was almost in tears from the pain. I just could not believe that such a tiny poke could cause as much pain as I was feeling, it was so ridiculous that hubby told me he was going to run to WalMart and see if he could purchase me a walker.
Then, it hit me! In the evenings when I start to finally relax after a long day, my Fibromyalgia pains me the most in my elbows, hands and feet. So this little poke must have flared something up and aggravated it. It is just another thing to see how this condition can affect my body.
So, now that I have deemed it necessary to wear steel toed boots in the kitchen, I want to hear your what are the odds stories of the silly, crazy or down right 'I can't believe that just happened' type. The lines are open, who will be my first story teller?