It's that time of year again.

Time for me to get stitches.

I guess I'll just schedule my appointment for next year around this time.

Would you believe that last year this same week I had to get stitches. You can read about it here.

I bring to you the Pampered Chef Ultimate Slice and Grate:


Funny how it is supposed to pamper the average household chef. Not mutilate him/her. One might use the argument that you are supposed to use the finger guard that it comes with. Well, it advertises that you can cut squash with it and I would challenge you to stick a squash on the finger guard and see how well that works for you.

Therefore the average happy household chef is forced into using his/her own hand to get the perfect and uniform squash slices that it advertises.

Are you thinking what I'm thinking? Are you thinking that I'm the afore mentioned happy household chef and that I might be defending my decision to abort the finger guard provided by the company claiming to pamper ME?

And anyways, if you're cooking, you most certainly aren't being pampered so that's just nonsense of a name if you ask me. Now, if the ultimate finger slicer came with a tiny dehydrated maid that you soak in water thus bringing it to life once again to clean up the mess made after using it, then I'd consider myself pampered.

But instead, here I am. typing away awkwardly trying to train my ring finger to peck at the keys my pinkie once did but it's not having it. Can't teach an old dog new tricks, you know?

It was around 6ish on Monday evening. I decided to make Levi one of his favorite dishes. Squash and zucchini Italian pasta. I do as I always do and get out the necessary tools and get to work.

Minced garlic and olive oil in a pan sizzling away.

Water in a pot on the verge of boiling.

Me at the sink rinsing the almost-ready-to-be-thrown-out organic squash from Whole Foods that I refused to throw away even in the event of a hint of slime and/or mold. After all, I would be cooking it, right?

So, needless to say it wasn't the firmest squash. It was, in fact, limp.

I begin to slice the very first limp squash and after only about 5 slices, on the way up the slicer the squash slipped and on the way down my pinkie got sliced instead of the 6th slice of squash.

Let's just say it was a gusher. That's what the Dr. repeatedly said while stitching me up, anyway.

I gasp. My body wants to panic. My mind wants to hit rewind and do it all over again with the finger guard. I was a bit shocked, not believing that I just did something so extremely stupid.

I snatch a paper towel, glancing at the wound then really wishing I hadn't. I tell Mia to get my phone. Get my phone! GET MY PHONE! Only to realize it was in my back pocket.

*Note to self, teach Mia how to use speed dial to daddy and 911

We manage to get daddy on the phone and were so fortunate to have him just one block away.

At this point, Jules was prancing around the living room with her hands on her cheeks on the verge of a coronary. The question "Are you going to die?" was asked no less than 10 times.

No, Jules, I'm not. BUT if you don't calm down, you MIGHT.

I wasn't even crying. Just squeezing my eyes shut really tight. That's all. Totally under control.

We get all loaded up in the car and I had the most scathingly brilliant idea! Go ask nurse neighbor Dina where I should go to get stitches super fast. Honestly, I'd have let Levi stitch me up to avoid an ER visit. She took a peak and told me that Care Now should be able to handle it just fine and dandy. Then, she offered to take the girls for us. I thought they might want to stay and watch the action but they decided playing with Gracie was a better use of their time, much to our relief.

Wow! Did you know that if you walk into care now with a completely blood soaked paper towel wrapped around your finger that they admit you instantly! It was awesome.

"Sweet" was the exact word one of the MALE nurses said when I walked in. Apparently blood and stitches is the highlight of their day.

Everyone was so very nice and the Dr. who stitched me up was the nicest, kindest, person EVER. She even put up with Levi and his really retarded witty comments which may have included but would not be limited to "She done loped off the end of her finger."

Again, the worst part of stitches is the shots they give you to deaden the area. This time it was 5 of them at the base of my pinkie. Then the stitching began and just a few minutes later she was done.


Oh, and she said that the ends of fingers don't heal well and that I might loose the "flap" all together.

Excuse me? I am a 31 year old decent looking young woman and a pinkie nub would not fit me at all. So, I suggest you wiggle your nose, blink your eyes, wave your magic dr wand, whatever you have to do. Just make sure the pinkie stays intact.

They bandaged me up and we were out of there in an HOUR. Love. Care. Now.

So, now, I just look ridiculous and am highly inconvenienced with the fact that my pinkie cannot bend, get wet, or get bumped. And for your amusement, which I so very much care about, here is me and the pinkie driving:

And typing.....
And scolding.....(thank you Mia for posing)

And, after a follow up visit I was informed that it looks as though the flap will forever be apart of my pinkie.

Or, at least, until next year around this time.