What Do Frodo and I Have in Common?

Yesterday at the deli, I was trying to cut through the wrapper of Boars Head salami and accidentally cut into my left index finger, just below the fingernail.

It wasn't bad but later, when I was sanitizing a meat slicer, I cut through the top of my right index finger, from about halfway above the top of the fingerprint on the one side and just before the top of the fingernail on the other.

Fortunately it didn't hit bone but it gushed blood like the old SNL Julia Child skit. I had to wrap it up with six bandaids before it stopped splurting. (As I was walking to the pharmacy with my finger wrapped in paper towels, leaving a trail of blood drops behind me, a customer still came up and asked where some damn French product that I've never heard of was.)

Today it looked like it had stopped bleeding but, when I had to give Devilgirl a bath, I ripped it open again. It was like Psycho in reverse. Naturally we were out of bandaids, so I had to tape on two gauze pads.

Later I tried to grade papers but Devilboy knocked the whole stack of them on the floor and was about to rip them to confetti. I grabbed them up but as I did, a broken strand of carpet slid into the cut and wedged in. I couldn't yank my hand free without pulling off the top of my finger and threading the carpet out was like solving a Rubik's cube in the dark.

Finally I pulled it out, and Devilboy looked at my finger and said, "Uh-oh, boo boo."

Forgive my typing tonight, folks.