take that death!

So yesterday I beat death at his own game. I was cleaning up in the pantry and as I moved some things around our mini blender came flying off the shelf, bumped into my left hand and hit the ground next to one of the jumbo cases of Coke you get a Costco. The next thing I know, Coke is spraying out of one of the cans all over the pantry floor. Using my ninja skills I figured out which can it was and it turns out the blender blade had flown out of the blender and sliced the side of a can, causing it to gush. So I cleaned up, cursing and mumbling under my breath about how my roommate, you know the husband, is always conveniently absent when messes need to be cleaned up.

A little later I took a shower and felt that something on my hand was stinging. I took a look and saw that my left palm had 1/2 inch slice cut across it. It wasn't deep and hadn't bled. But it was only then that I realized what had really happened in my little pantry adventure. The blender had opened up mid-air and the blade had flown out... hit my hand and sliced it, causing it to ricochet off and hit the coke can that it eventually dismembered. So naturally, all the thoughts about what would have happened if it had hit my hand harder started running through my mind. The blood, the carnage... okay, sure I wouldn't have died from a big cut on my had. Worst case scenario I would have bled and needed stitches. But it's much more exciting and dramatic this way. To have beat death at it's own game.

I've always had a little bit of a nervous fear about blades and knives anyway. I'm one of those people who never puts knives blade up in the dishwasher and has this weird fear that if you shut the utensil drawer too quickly you might make a knife flip up and poke you. Maybe I'm on to something. Maybe the knife and blade karma gods were trying to get back at me. And I won.