In my office, we have to work two Saturday's in April. We do not get paid overtime or anything, so instead we get comp time (which I love). Last Friday, I thought I would take some of that comp time and leave work at noon to get some chores done around the house and fix a nice dinner so Eric and I could settle in for a date night when he got home from work. While grocery shopping for dinner, I remembered this article I saw on Pinterest that said putting water and vinegar in your microwave for a few minutes can help clean it. (Confession: I never wipe down our microwave and we do not have a bowl cover contraption, so it is pretty nasty.). We do not own vinegar so I quickly ran to grab some, not looking at the type of lid but just looking at price.
I apparently should have checked out the type of lid on the vinegar. You know how milk has the pull tab to open the lid? Our vinegar was the same way. Except when I tried to pull the tab it broke. So, the next logical step was to see if I could pull it with my teeth (y'all, don't forget I am from Southeast Arkansas. This might not have been your next logical step, but we do a lot of things differently in DeWitt). Well, biting it didn't work. So the next logical step was to try and pry scissors under the tab to rip it off. To do this, I propped my right hand on the top of the bottle to steady it and pushed the scissors under the tab with all my might with my left hand. Well, the scissors slipped and I stabbed myself in the right hand with a pair of (semi dull) scissors. It took me a second to realize what I just did. I actually hesitated to put pressure on the wound because the only towel nearby was my favorite kitchen towel and I didn't want to ruin it with blood stains. I quickly decided it wasn't that great of a towel and grabbed it to apply pressure while looking for my phone to call Eric. I was short and to the point with my phone call (which I conducted by speaker phone while hanging over our sink with my hand raised in the air. What a mess I was). By my call, he thought I had cut my finger off. Oops. After calling him I plopped down in the floor waiting for him to get home. Once he arrived he stood me up and told me we needed to wash my hand of. What?? Heck no. No way was I looking at it and he was not touching it. This thought freaked me out so much I looked down at my hand and saw the blood. And then I told Eric "I am about to pass out". I don't think he believed me. Until two seconds later when I was laying limp over the sink. That will show him. I passed out again on the trip to the door so he could take me to see if I needed stitches. Since the stab was so deep (I'll spare the gross details, but we could tell it was at least an inch deep), the doctor didn't want to do stitches. Apparently deep wounds are almost guaranteed to get infected, and if it is stitched it causes more troubles. So I got a new Tetanus shot and antibiotics and we were on our way. By the way, Tetanus shots hurt like the dickens. Who knew??
The most interesting part of this experience is learning to do things with just one hand. (Have you ever had to shower with just one hand? Or button/unbutton jeans? Almost impossible.) What did I learn from this experience? That I will never use a pair of scissors again.
Or at least for a few months.
Oh, and just so you know, Eric was able to open the vinegar bottle that night and we tried the water/vinegar mixture out on the microwave. It worked! Sweet victory.
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