I’ve never owned a sharp knife. Seriously. We actually have some butter knives that are sharper than our “real” knives.
This has made meal preparation very difficult.
A month or so ago, I was crushing a poor, helpless tomato into a pulp while attempting to slice it when an infomercial came on. It was for the Yoshi Blade.
I could hear heavenly choirs singing. All I needed to do was purchase a Yoshi Blade, and for the low, low price of $9.95 plus shipping and handling I would never mangle another piece of produce again.
I had to have one. I dashed to my handy-dandy computer and put in my order for not one, but two Yoshi blades. Then I went to bed dreaming about all of the vegetables I would chop.
Two weeks later, the knives arrived. They looked like…toys.
“Is this some sort of joke?” Emma asked.
“Mo-om! These knives aren’t going to cut anything!” Daniel eye-rolled.
I boldly ignored his sarcasm and ordered him to start chopping some veggies for dinner.
“Use a cutting board,” I warned.
He ignored me. And proceeded to cut the plate he was using in half.
“This knife is dangerous!” he sputtered.
For the next two weeks, he refused to use the Yoshi Blades. He was afraid of them.
The rest of the kids, however, thought the Yoshi blades were very cool. Another plate was soon found mysteriously cut in half.
Dishes have a hard life around here.
Eventually, Daniel got over his Yoshi fear and began using the Yoshi blades for everything.
“These knives are amazing!” he was heard to exclaim. (I am not kidding.)
I like the Yoshi Blades, too. I just don’t gush about them and show them off to my friends. Until now.
But last week as I was whipping up a pot of Zuppa Toscana (mmmm…..zuppa toscana), disaster struck.
I was happily chopping a giant onion when my trusty little Yoshi blade had a close encounter with my thumb.
It hurt. And the blood, it was everywhere!
(OK, so there really wasn’t that much blood, but I had to go for the drama.)
The tip of my thumb was hanging by a small hinge of skin. It looked like Oscar the Grouch’s trash can. It was kind of cool.
I was faced with a decision: rush off to a stinky medical-type place to get it stitched back on, or continue making the soup (mmmm….zuppa toscana). It was an easy choice. I was hungry.
I plunked the tip of my thumb back into place, triple bandaged it, and finished the soup. It was delicious.
And really, it just the small tip of my right thumb. Since I’m left-handed, I figured that I wouldn’t even miss it.
I was wrong.
For the first few days, it kept seeping blood every time I bumped it. And the bandages kept falling off. Which would cause my thumb tip to fall off. Do you have any idea how annoying it is to try to get anything done when the tip of your thumb keeps falling off?
It is also very difficult to start a car without using your right thumb. Go ahead, try it. And keep in mind that if you even brush the ignition switch with your thumb, it will really, really hurt and you will get blood all over everything.
But wait, there’s more:
Washing your hair? Fuhgeddaboudit.
Putting a ponytail in your little girl’s hair? Owie!!
Buttoning your jeans? Pain-ful!
In fact, as it turns out I use my right thumb for a lot of things. Opposable thumbs really are useful. Who knew?
I’ll never take my right hand for granted again.
After a few days, my dangling thumb bit was dead enough to cut all the way off.
What? Did I just overshare?
And now, it’s mostly healed. My thumb-regeneration powers are in full swing. In another month or so, I should just have a slightly misshapen thumb tip.
And a healthy fear of sharp knives.