29 July 2007
We’re going to call her Slash
Saturday, and another evening having pizza with the crew, or the remnants of the crew, or, in this case, Jean-Marc, the only one left of the crew who is still insane enough to visit old friends who happen to have three little monsters. And seeing as how the newly-returned house-funk has sucked me of all drive, I didn’t even think to have anything for dessert.

Christine, bless her heart, took it upon herself to save me from this embarrassing point. We’d only just finished the pizzas, when, as Marc was passing me his empty box, Pooplette decided to grab his knife, his very sharp, very pointy, HUGE pizza knife. Marc and I both went for it at the same time—an 18-month old with a pizza machete is a dangerous thing.

A very dangerous thing it turns out. She saw her father coming with that ‘I’m going to take your knife away’ look in his eye. She didn’t see me. But she stabbed me anyway—right under my index finger, palm side.

So our charming Saturday evening pizza dinner without dessert was saved before we even got to the point of me having to meekly admit I had no dessert—because Marc had to take me in to the emergency room…

…where we were told we’d have to wait ‘une petite heure’ before the Dr. could sew me up. Une petite heure’ in Haute-Marne, should you ever need to know, means more like two hours and fifteen minutes. But I eventually got sewn up (two stitches) by the nice Syrian doctor who didn’t quite wait long enough for the local anesthetic to kick in before stitching my hand back together. I wonder if that’s because I told him I’m American…


So Pooplette has a new nickname, and me? You can just call me Claw.

 
posted by Doc at 14:51 | Permalink |


9 Comments:


  • At 18:23, Anonymous martina

    I hope you are right handed! Now you have a story to torment your daughter with until she is an adult. "Remember that day you stabbed your mother?". Get well soon.

     
  • At 20:04, Blogger Z

    Jesus, that's nasty. Keep popping the painkillers and don't be brave.

     
  • At 10:18, Blogger jchevais

    I have had stitches in my hand. They freaking hurt!

     
  • At 10:24, Blogger The Late Bloomer

    Oooooo, I hope you're feeling better! What a scare -- I would have been a bit freaked out. But obviously little Pooplette didn't mean it and had no idea what she was doing. Full of surprises, huh?!

     
  • At 13:38, Blogger Poppy Fields

    I stabbed myself once in the hand, going for a potato but skewering myself instead and winning about the same amount of time in a Seine and Marne hospital.

     
  • At 18:28, Blogger Epiphany

    And she can still type, take photos, and post them to the internet, ladies and gentlemen.

    Let there be no mistake: this woman gots some mad skillz!

     
  • At 20:55, Blogger Girl

    Oh, I hope you're feeling better!

    I did that once slicing bread...I nearly sliced off my index finger. It happened on a Saturday night during a horrendous snowstorm (good luck trying to get to the hospital when the cabs weren't even out). Luckily, I didn't need stitches (my boyfriend managed to stop the bleeding) and the deep gash heeled up nicely after a month...Ouch!

    Take care and I hope you heal quickly! :)

     
  • At 20:23, Blogger ViVi

    Holy moly woman, like you didn't have your hands full already!! Hope the drugs are good, get better soon! :)

     
  • At 12:11, Blogger Deb

    Yikes! Hope you're all healed up.