Planetspork

Pinewood Derby has been the glory race for cub scouts since the 50’s and maybe longer (I didn’t research this, so whatever). My son was of age to participate this year and won best design for his “shark” car. He was very excited about it. While this is interesting, it’s not the main point of the story.

The same day that my son came home with a trophy, his cousin called me and asked for help in finishing his car. His dad isn’t ‘good with tools’. I invited him over and we began. After sketching the design on the side of the car, I broke out the jigsaw and trimmed off a piece of the car. I then turned the car to take off another piece, the saw slipped and I bumped my index finger.

I won’t lie; it hurt. Bad. So as I stood their clutching my finger, I look up and see my newphew mildly amused and not entirely sure why I had stopped. I look over at my brother-in-law to a stunned/shocked look. I went inside and applied some first aid, rinsed it off and went back to working on the car. We finished the car the best we could and they eventually went home. Fast foward two hours.

My wife arrives at the house after having her cell phone stolen at a “Sesame Street Live” show (probably a funnier story..) and decides immediately after seeing my finger that I need stitches. I’m irritated at this point since the bleeding at pretty well stopped and I wasn’t excited about sitting around in the emergency room for 2 hours only to have it followed up by some overworked doctor poking me repeatedly with needles. Not to mention they probably have to remove my finger nail to get the stitches in. Long story short, the doctor looks at it and says, “We can’t stitch that. Keep it clean and don’t mess with it. It’ll be fine”. Two hours, $50 and a bandaid later I’m on my way home.

Oh, and before I forget.. here’s the pic of my finger the day after.