But, me being me, nothing is quite so simple. I won't bore you with a recap of my weekend, suffice it to say that I did a lot of barbecuing. As a result, I have a pile of leftover barbeque in the fridge, which thrills me to no end. So tonight, home alone as Mrs. TK is working late, I decide "hey, let's have a sandwich using some of the wonderful pork loin". Mmm, sandwiches.
So I get some bread, some mayo, some cheese, and while innocently slicing the pork (and simultaneously completely spacing out), I basically saw off the tip of my left thumb. Yeah. Blood everywhere.
So now, since I'm a little bored, I figured I'd talk about something I've alluded to in the past. Namely, the fact that I am incredibly clumsy. I know, you're thinking, "oh TK, you exaggerate", because you're like my mother and begin all your sentences with "oh!". But believe me when I tell you that I am absolutely not exaggerating. I'm not clumsy because I severed off the tip of my thumb.
I'm clumsy because this is the third time I've done this. In the last five years.
So join me, friends, for a little journey down TK's Memory Lane of Pain. Here are some of the amazing feats of awkwardness and ineptitude that I have achieved in my 32 years:
- When I was five, I was spinning around in circles to make myself dizzy. As a result, I hit my head on a table, resulting in a gash above my eyebrow, stitches, and a scar that I bear to this day.
- When I was 10, I got so angry at my Nintendo that I slammed my fist into it, breaking the cover and tearing up my knuckles. Resulting in stitches.
- When I was 13, I was riding my bike to school. While going downhill, I hit the brakes too hard, went flying over the handlebars, slammed into a stop sign (and I mean the actual sign part), and broke my left wrist.
- 9 months later, I was running out of history class. I lost my balance, put my hand down to steady myself, but since my thumb was sticking out, I snapped my thumb. It was bent literally at a 90 degree angle. Yes, I broke my thumb in history class.
- When I was 14, three days before high school started, I was riding my bike to a friends house. My front breaks were a little too tight. So I, being the fucking Rhodes Scholar that I am, tried to kick the brake pads to loosen them. Instead, I got my foot stuck in the spokes and went flying over the handlebars (again). This time, I broke both the bones in my left forearm, broke my right shoulder blade, shredded the skin off both elbows and knees, and lost two teeth. Let's just say the first day of 9th grade was a little awkward.
- When I was 15, I tore up my knee taking out the trash. Apparently, there was some sort of sharp thing in the bag, it brushed up against my knee and next thing you know I'm in the hospital getting stitches.
- Again at 15 - one of my best friends had a fairly low ceiling in their stairwell. Not incredibly low - in fact, they've told me that no one else has ever hit their head on it. Not only did I once hit my head so hard that I almost blacked out, but they eventually had to re-plaster that section of ceiling because it was so badly damaged. From my forehead.
- Another time in high school, I was tapping on a window to shoo off a bug. I ended up putting my hand through the glass. Yep, more stitches.
- When I was a senior in high school, I went camping with some friends. Since all of them knew my reputation for damaging my own person, they gave me all the easy jobs, like gathering firewood. Right. While stomping on a branch to try to break it, it shot up and went right in my ear. Again, blood everywhere.
- During my college years, I worked construction over the summers. One such summer I was using a hammer and chisel, apparently a bit too vigorously. A piece of the hammer cracked off and shot into my arm, resulting in a tiny little hole and a stunning amount of blood. Again with the stitches.
- Before we moved to this house, I was in the basement of our apartment, doing the laundry. I hit my head on a pipe so hard that I just... landed on my ass. And briefly blacked out. It's hard to describe... imagine seeing someone just... violently sit down, then pass out. Oh, and it's because they hit their head so hard that they bit their tongue hard enough to draw blood.
- Last winter, I tried snowboarding. Without taking lessons. Result? Completely lose control (on the little kiddie hill), go flying ass over teakettle, and in an effort to break the fall, I put my hands out in front of me. I know, your thinking another broken arm, right? WRONG. Instead, I landed on my fists and cracked a rib. That's right, I broke my rib with my own fist. Which resulted in this conversation with my with my wife:
Me: Oh... God... it... hurts...
Her: laughing, she's having a great time
Me: Stop... laughing... not... kidding...
Her: laughter dying down... are you ok? Does it hurt?
Me: Only... when I... laugh... or talk... or... breathe...
- Last summer, while digging up the flagstones in my yard, I dropped one on my toe. Thankfully, no hospital trip was necessary.
- Also last summer, I slammed my car door on my own thumb. No reason. No distractions around. Just slammed the door shut, without thinking "hm, maybe I should move that big damn monkey-thumb out of the way". Tore the nail right the fuck off.
Also, for those of you keeping score, yes. Yes, between the ages of 13 and 15, I broke five bones, lost two teeth and needed stitches twice. I used to think I was clumsy because I grew so quickly (in those same two years I went from 5'0" to 5'11"). But sadly, the future would prove this to be untrue. Basically, I think I should just wear a helmet and body armor full-time. Or wear one of these:
Yeah. Enjoy your day. And be careful out there.