I had a minor kitchen accident this evening. Nothing like CHOPPED, where the chefs sometimes sever a digit, stick it back on with chewing gum, stretch on a latex glove, and go merrily about their chopping while it fills with blood faster than ground offal bloats a sausage casing.
The accident occurred while I was slicing two onions. Lucky for me, I was on the second half of the last onion. Because that acid that leaks out of the onion cells sure does smart when it comes in contact with an oozy layer of my dermis, once I carve away a hunk of epidermis.
Funny how much you take your thumbs for granted. They do countless thankless jobs all the live-long day, unheralded, unappreciated. Here are just a few tasks we rely on thumbs for, that I discovered tonight:
Picking up raw pork steaks and ensconcing them in Saran Wrap. Pretty difficult when you don't want to expose your open flesh to Trichinella spiralis, a species of roundworm that just might be infesting your pork. And a tough task to perform with a lone thumb.
Pairing and rolling up white socks that belong to boy children. Let's just say somebody is going to get the sock with the red dot.
Grabbing a handful of Scoops tortilla chips. Or as I like to think of it, deliberately rubbing salt in my own wound.
Pulling down pants. As in those frantic trips to the bathroom that women of a certain age are wont to experience.
Pulling up pants. Because to not do so is kind of frowned upon in polite society.
Changing channels on the Dish Network remote control. Dang! You might as well text 24/7/365 to build up your thumb strength, because that remote is a regular bear with all those fancy gewgaws.
Blowing your nose. Try it sometime. To pick up a tissue and blow your nose without using your thumb. Or try using the opposite hand. See? I told you so.
Opening or closing a ziplocked bag of Walmart Great Value Almonds. It takes two thumbs! Or one thumb and a set of teeth.
Thank goodness the wound is on the finger side of my thumb, so typing is not affected. As long as I leave off a Band Aid, I have enough sensation to type. And it's my left hand thumb. So writing for my job will not be affected, either. Though I AM ambidextrous, I have a preferred hand for many activities. Like nose blowing, and card dealing, and teeth picking, and basketball shooting, and chip eating are all for Lefty.
You know what else I discovered tonight? Saliva is a poor substitute for a Band Aid.
7 comments:
Thumbs up to you for making me realize I take my thumbs for granted.
You need to warn your readers about gross posts. My wife was eating at the time of this reading and we had just returned from hunger games and guess what I said, "I know something that will make us laugh." So, I open up your post and yes it was funny, but my wife was eating and so I got the gross. I think I will go try and blow my nose right now!!
Thumbs ARE quite important. There is another finger on my hand (I actually have one on each of my hands) that is vital to my existence.
But hey. Thanks for the ode to thumbs.
Rubbing salt into the wound...stilllaughing even though it is not funny. Val, why are you not submitting to my anthology or one of the other 34 listed on my blog? Your writing style is what we are looking for!
Slicing digits and bleeding into the vegetables is frowned upon. The punishment and torture is trying to survive without said digit for at least a week.
Stephen,
Somebody's gotta do it.
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Josh,
So sorry that my uncouthness caused anybody to throw up a little bit in anybody's mouth. Never forget that I have a hillbilly husband, I'm raising two boys, and there were two older boys before them. It's not like I serve High Tea on a regular basis. You'll have to go elsewhere for your dainty, crusts-cut-off, watercress sandwich triangles.
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Sioux,
I hope you put those things away when the rescue squad was prying your head out of the school sink.
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Linda,
I have submitted one, to your partner, a week or so ago. Under my real name, of course. I plan to submit many more, if I can overcome my addiction to aimless blog-writing, reality TV, and chair naps. I'm splicing one together for your book. It is about family, and may or may not contain the command, "Stop plugging your brother's fart hole!"
AND...I left you a comment last night about the Slice and Good Housekeeping, but apparently BLOGGER did not find it worthy enough to exist. It's a conspiracy, I tell you.
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Leenie,
No hitch-hiking for ME! (For at least a week.)
Oh man I thought for sure that was what you were serving. Dang all this time...
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