Stabby stabby

Unloading the dishwasher a glass slipped out of my hand and landed on my foot in a stabby stabby sort of way. I’ve taken a few things from this.
First of all, get good neighbours. I was lucky it happened on a weekend but I was unlucky my husband had gone out for an excessively long run that morning. Cue panicked call to my very calm and collected neighbour who patched me and even tidied up the glass before paediatrics and vets were added on to the list of places I’d have to visit that day.
Second, your siblings will always be your siblings. From the reminder my brother did worse that time he hugged the cactus my Dad named after me (true story), to my sister’s outrage at having to waste a phone call all for a ‘steri-strip injury’. I’m telling Dad on both of you. Even my two year old insisted she’s hurt her foot worse and NEEDED to see the ‘lady doctor’. I don’t think she meant gynaecologist, Mini Dictators just get confused sometimes.
Third, it’s best not to injure yourself too bad when in charge of the little people. Actually just don’t stab yourself.
Fourth, the washing machine is clearly too advanced for me so I’m never touching it again.
Fifth, if you haven’t stabbed yourself today you’re winning. You’ve got this.

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