this post was submitted on 11 Dec 2023
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I don't remember doing this, cause I was 3 at the time. I wandered into the kitchen, where my mother was doing some cooking prep, and my father was doing some paperwork of some sort. I said "Mom, I think I hurt myself." She said, "Oh no, you're fine." In her defence, prior to this if I ever so much as gotten a tiny scratch, I would be screaming my head off. My father looked up and said, "No Anita, he's hemorrhaging!" She turned around to find that I was bleeding from multiple gashes in all five fingers on my right hand.
Apparently, I had gone into my parents room, which I knew I shouldn't be in. Gotten into their closet, which I knew was even more off limits. Pulled my mother's sewing kit out, which I knew was super duper off limits!!! Found her pizza cutter razorblade thing that is used to cut cloth, and proceeded to disassemble the thing, managing to slice all five fingers on my right hand three times trying not to drop it. I've no idea what I was gonna do with the thing. Apparently I had to get multiple stitches in each finger.
I'm the 3rd of 5, though it was 3.5 at the time.
Sheesh! I don't want this to sound harsh, but as a kid you sound like you were ...contraceptive. What took your parents so long?
My mother claims she was praying for patience when she got pregnant with me, and the fact that I'm still alive proves that she learned patience.
That's awesome, you're like ...a miracle or something!
Those things are no joke. I have a sick scar on one of my fingers for trying to cut one of those wrapping paper tubes with one.
...Yeah, in hindsight trying to cut a round, rolley thing thing with another extremely sharp round, rolley thing was pretty retarded.