Isn't it Ironic?

Last year at my "Favorite Things" bridal shower, I received a gift from a woman who's favorite thing was a battery operated screw driver. She said it makes life much easier if you have some handy tools to hang pictures and do chores around the house that normally you'd have to wait for a man to do. Since being a home owner, I've learned that home projects, whether they are simple tasks like hanging pictures or big events like installing windowsills, take time. Too much time. Much more time that I am comfortable with. But, I never try not to complain too much because its usually Steve who has the tools and the muscle (and usually the brains) to get the job done. But Sunday I was determined to hang up some decorations that had been sitting sadly on the bar just begging to be hung! I'm a pro at hanging things with thumbtacks and tiny nails, but this called for something more heavy duty. And then I remembered my fancy schmancy screw driver from the shower and I got to thinking about how I can use MY tools to get the job done! Ah ha!

The screwdriver came in that awful plastic packaging. You know, the kind that is IMPOSSIBLE to open! Yeah, I know you know what I'm talking about and I can bet that you probably just winced in horror at the thought of the last time you attempted to open one.

Now it gets good, trust me.

So, right next to the screwdriver package is my "Ladies Mate" - my very own personal toolkit. Hammer, nails, tape measure and lots of other useless stuff. But, lookie here! A box cutter! Nearly new! This should do the job!

I am slicing and dicing the plastic and need just one more tiny cut before I can even attempt to pry open the package. And that's when it happened. The blade flew off the plastic and directly into my left index finger. I took one look at the cut and knew it was BAD. Like, worst cut ever! Like, you could see my finger's innards! Must. Apply. Pressure. IMMEDIATELY!  Go directly to Steve, do not pass go!

Yeah, sure, now I am in dire need of a MAN to help me out. Even more, I needed a MAN to help me open that damn package ten minutes ago! Instead, my ladies mate and my super cool screwdriver and the words from the lovely woman, "you don't need a man!" went whirling through my head and I convinced myself that I could do it! I am determined to get things DONE. I am woman!!

I calmly, I got up and grabbed a paper towel, wrapped it around my finger, walked outside, and gently called out, "Oh Billy! I think I have an emergency here. I think I might need stitches." That's right, no exclamation points, no high pitch squeal, no CAPS LOCK. How weird is it that I was as calm as the morning sea? In fact, as I was walking outside, I kept telling myself, stay calm, do not freak out, breathe. And then my brain was like, "umm hello, are you serious? Where's the tears? Where's the screams? Why isn't this hurting?? Why are you being so calm? Who are you?" Seriously, I was pretty freaked out that I wasn't freaking out. So not me.

I get to Steve and he takes one single look and says, "let's go!", grabs a bazillion paper towels and jumps in the car. Off to the ER we go! Turns out I didn't need stitches after all. Pretty lucky huh? Just a tetanus shot and some dermabond (prescribed by hot doc!). Yep, skin glue! Which also means I cannot get my finger wet for a week. Here we go again...

In summary:

1. I need Steve. I am so happy to have him and I am so lucky that he enjoys doing projects in our house to make it beautiful.
2. I am also glad to have my handy Ladies Mate and that cool screwdriver, but from this point forward I will ask for help when I need it!
3. Do not use a box cutter to try to open those stupid plastic packages!!!
4. Rebel against said plastic packages and refuse to buy items wrapped in them!