I can't believe I forgot to blog about the fish hook in my finger! Last night, just as we had said goodbye to our company, I got the kids ready for bed and started cleaning up the kitchen. One of my children (who I won't mention because he feels so badly about what happened) was responsible to clean out the tackle box. He had laid a pile of fishing wire, connected to a fishing lure/hook...whatever it's called....on top of the overflowing trash can. When I pulled the bag out of the trash can, the fish hook (yes, the kind with backward prongs at the end), sank into the tip of my finger. Goodness gracious that hurt.
I have had 4 children without a single epidural, so I was sure I could handle John yanking the hook out. I begged him to pull the hook out. Very quickly. But he insisted we go to the emergency room. I ended up being so thankful that he insisted, because it required wire cutters, pliers, and a local anesthetic. And when I saw how hard the doctor had to yank to get it out, I was SO glad for that local anesthetic. So here is a photo for you, taken by John's cell phone, for your enjoyment and entertainment. And this, my friends, is why I don't fish.
