I just sliced my thumb open.
I was slicing two-day old baguette in an attempt to use it up before it was thoroughly unsliceable. Luckily, or unluckily as the case may be, James’ culinary school knives are ridiculously sharp and the task was easy, too easy. But my mind was writing and the kids were talking to me and the baby was standing at my knees, balancing precariously by holding on to my sweats which were slowly slipping from my hips.
And that’s when the knife sliced down through the bread and my thumb. It was actually stuck in my thumb. I had to pull it out from halfway through my thumbnail.
I am not in the habit of cursing, which is good in situations like this when my mouth just says things. There was lots of groaning and gnashing of teeth. My son rushed in and asked if I was ok. My daughter came in and saw the snack in process.
And as I’m in the bathroom pouring betadine into my thumb and rummaging around for non-Dora bandaids my daughter is asking where her little toasts are.
“See how I bleed for you and your little toasts?!” I want to yell.
“I quit!” I want to yell.
I want to walk out and slam the door dramatically and disappear into an overstuffed armchair in the corner of a coffee shop while someone else brings me a cappuccino and cries over my thumb. The coffee shop would be playing Yani, the only time I’ve ever wished for Yani, and you know why Yani, because there are no voices, not a word. You would only here the wind through an oboe and the sound of tears being spent over my thumb as my friend said:
“Oh, Barbara I’m so sorry!”
“I know, right?”
“Does it hurt much?”
“Should I get you a pastry, too?”
“I dunno. A chocolate croissant may help.”
But, there’s no sub and no tag outs. I’m going to have to settle for teaching my kids how to open the child proof cap to bring me some Tylenol. Never mind, that sounds like a bad idea.
I think at least, though, I’m getting a frozen pizza for dinner. Is that cheating too much? Everything else I had in mind for dinner involved slicing things. And the other knives are looking at me strangely.