The Rest of My Finger

Ok, so I didn't actually cut off any part of my finger, but I did make a pretty good sized slice across my knuckle. It's slightly ironic really. I had been thinking just this evening, as I balanced boiling hot water full of potatoes in one hand and tried to fish out the slimy potatoes with a knife with the other, that I would be lucky to get through the evening without injuring myself. I just expected it to be with boiling water or the salmon I had burning in the pan. It wasn't my best culinary experience.

But no, I got the food prepared and on the table without any serious problem. The kids and I ate leisurely and again, there were no problems. Then it was time for dessert. We have recently become obsessed with slices of bread with butter and honey. Paul's tartine came off without a hitch, just like usual. Then I foolishly decided that I wanted my third (or maybe fourth, but who's counting?) slice of bread of the day.

I began cutting the bread. I don't know how much you know about French bread, but it is delicious. It has a soft center and perfectly crusty...well, crust. But crusty crust is also hard, sometimes like a rock. This one wasn't as hard as some but I'm taking any excuse I can get. I was cutting with ginormous serrated bread knife. It works amazingly well for cutting hard bread. I imagine fingers are a piece of cake in comparison.

I looked up for a second to talk to a child. I do not have the best coordination in the world. Apparently I cannot move my head and my hand in two separate directions at the same time. I looked down in time to see the serrated blade running through my finger. It was slightly disconcerting but mostly I was thinking, 'Wow, I think there should be blood."

Then there was. A lot. The kids were hilarious. They ran in two different directions looking for band aids and then watched with the utmost concentration as I rinsed the gaping wound and tried to explain in awkward, pain-laced French that this is the reason it's not good to play with knives. Then Marie helped me put on my band aid. It was only a little crooked.

We also took a break when the blood flow slowed to run up to my room to find my camera. I like to document my battle scars. But for your sake I will post the "clean" version, with the band aid already applied. If you have a stronger stomach than some people I know, you can check out the "unedited" version on my Facebook. I find it impressive.