A True Story

This blog is way too serious.  Not that I get around to writing very often.  Maybe it needs a light and humorous post to get me in the mood to be more consistent.  My currently super-glue stained fingers will give it a try.

One of my magi had a broken hand, and it was the one holding his gift.  This would never do - standing near my manger scene gazing at the baby Jesus with no present.  Yes, I know the magi did not visit the manger, but let's not quibble over details at this point.  Usually my husband is the fixer around here.  I am more often the breaker.  This morning however, I decided to give it a whirl.  I got the super glue out of the drawer, wrestled the cap off, and stared at the almost invisible liquid within.  As I held on to the wise man, his hand, and the glue, I carefully let a drop or two fall onto his severed wrist.  I quickly and deftly attempted to put the glue down and pick up the hand.  I felt liquid flowing onto my thumb and finger and knew this was not good.  Frantically thrusting the hand towards his arm I attempted to continue my surgery.  The hand fell.  As I felt my left hand's digits sticking together and saw a little film of gold left by  my visitor from the east, I tried again.  I succeeded in getting the glue on the kitchen counter this time, as well as the thumb and forefinger of my right hand.  I tenderly laid the little man on his back and hoped his hand would stay attached as I went off in search of nail polish remover.

As I entered the bathroom I glanced in the mirror and thought, "Hmm, my hair doesn't look half bad today.  If I don't look at the brassy haircolor I got by trying yet another job myself best left to professionals."  This was indeed a rare occasion, a good hair day.  I glanced as well at my cream sweater, brown pants, and chunky brown necklace and was a little amazed at how put together I was for a day at home cleaning up after an army of children and doing paperwork.  I digress, but my vanity was about to be the pride that went before my fall.

I grabbed my brand new bottle of remover, so happy I had finally remembered to get some yesterday so I could remove the lime green polish accented with red polka dots I had festively (and regrettably) decided on for my in-law's tree trimming party..  I moistened a tissue and got to work on my fingers.  Nothing, nada, zilch, they were just as coated as before.  I wondered if the remover was non-acetone, and decided to take a look at the label.  In a stunning maneuver, I turned the bottle and simultaneously dropped it into the sink.  In the process the blue liquid rushed from it's captivity in the bottle to land all over my cream sweater - that is the part that didn't rush down the drain, leaving me with about 1/3 of a bottle of the magic liquid.  My fingers are still coated in glue.  My lovely sweater will never be the same.  My toes are still wearing their way too young for me polish.

The only bright spots in my adventure are that the magi's hand and gift appear to be securely attached to his arm, my bathroom sink is VERY clean, and instead of getting busy going through mail and bills I am sitting here blogging, with a piece for chocolate cake to soothe my jagged nerves.  I had to leave the MyFitnessPal website in order to come over to my blog.  I think that means the cake doesn't count.  :-)