Ouch!!!

it's Xmas, I'm stressed. Furry lost his job, money's tight.. pretty much typical Xmas cheer going on in the House of Fur and Purple Love. We're off to Chez Fur on Xmas night, so let me take this opportunity to thank all of you for your support over the past 12 months, and wish you all the merriest of festivus's, however it is that you celebrate.

Anyhoo.. with all of the above going on, I do tend to cut corners... too much to do and too little time. You know the scenario?? I know the knife is blunt, but I am too busy to take that extra 5 mins to sharpen it... that sort of thing. So the other night, my unemployed bum of a husband (he secretly loves it when I call him that!) was cooking me dinner. I must admit, this coming home to a clean house, and dinner already prepped is rather beguiling. I could do this whole house-husband thing, if it weren't for the fact I'm a Nurse and earn crap money.

But walking through the door, yelling "Hi honey, I'm home", to be greeted with a glass of wine and moreish smells from the kitchen..... yeah, I could totally get used to it.

Anyway, I digress... the other night Furry was cooking steak and salad. And we had about a zillion things to do (last minute pressie buying, wrapping, packing).. so in a fit of pique, I muscled my way into the kitchen to hurry things along.

Now... I have a pan. A very sexy pan. It is my favouritest pan in the whole world. It is made by a company called "Chef's Toolbox".. My sexy pan has this name, chef's toolbox, embossed on its handles.

Now, Furry had been frying steak in this pan. The Malliard reaction evidence was there in front of me. But what do you suppose my thought process might have been??

Newp. Whatever you're thinking, you're wrong.

My mind said "Of for F's sake, hurry up, we've got too much to do to be stuffing around with letting the bloody steak rest.. here... let me."

And with that I grabbed the pan.

By the handle.

Which had been frying steak.

And proceeded to sear my thumb to aforementioned handle.

Which, if you've been concentrating, is embossed.

With words.

Yes, dear reader, I am now the proud owner of a fetching BRAND on the ball of my thumb. Clearly, in the perfect world, the word "tool" would be permanently etched. Given that that's exactly the word used to describe someone who grabs a hot frypan handle without a mitt. It would be the Universe's way of permanently reminding me of my folly.

But nooooo....

I get "oolbo".. or when you turn said thumb around to look at it, "odloo"

I hope it's not permanent. "tool" I could have lived with. But "odloo"?

**heavy sigh**

I'm going to warn you, that a few lines further down is a picture. Close this post now, if you have a weak stomach.