Or rather, in which I take something out of the cupboard carelessly, so that when she opens it 30 seconds later two glasses and a cup fall out, shatter on the floor behind me, and chunks of ceramic gouge huge chunks of flesh out of me.
Ok, fine. I have a small cut in my ankle which bled all over the floor for about a minute until I pressed a paper kitchen towel on it. I'd forgotten quite how red blood is when there's a bunch of it.
We thought it might require a stitch. Quite glad it didn't, as we have people coming round this evening! I'm definitely getting a scar though. Scars are cool, right?
Image under a cut to save you the trauma of my severe wounds.
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