Yesterday we got our sharpened knives back from the grocer. Both us & the butcher were slightly annoyed the knives were not already sharpened. We needed to kill some time anyway since the department store was not open till 11am. Eliot roamed the chip & dip aisle while you ran to get the other things on our tiny list.
While slicing an onion for my thrown-together lunch you punctured your the base of your left index finger. We’ve learned to hide our pain reasonably from Eliot. We tied it tight with an old t-shirt of mine over some paper towels. We decided it would be best to go to the hospital. I should have driven you to the ER in hindsight since my mom & Marty take long as hell to do anything.
You missed your bath, reading & glass of wine but you did not even need stitches plus we felt lucky not to have the problems Japan was having. We were just having an urban nightmare. I did cheer you up by sending you funny texts & photo of me wearing what was left of the shirt we tore up for a tourniquet.
All the much, Mingo