Oh, I'm totally the pot to Cass's kettle. I've tripped over a foul line- the painted line on the basketball court. I've nearly broken a rib on a barstool, stepped in a mess'o'glass playing ball with my heels off (because with heels on is just stupid, barefoot at a bar is much, much better), punched a hole in a window, and burned my boob with a curling iron. And that's just the stuff I tell people about.
Yes, my darlings, but our Erin *sat. on. a. knife*.
No more sharp or stabby things for you guys! Or me, for that matter. I jammed the point of a knife just above my wrist, and while the cut was shallow, I could *not* get it to stop bleeding. Could not. Luckily H came home and applied butterflies. And then superglue. The scar is less than a half-inch long. Interestingly, though, I must have unmoored muscle and tendon, because there's a curious trough of missing tissue under the healed scar.
Ellie is woefully cute in that ladybug costume. Poor mite. I hope the candy makes up for the costume woe.