Incidents & Accidents

I'm going to begin today's entry by griping about something - so take this as a warning and if you don't feel the need to be lectured you might want to stop reading now. Right now. No...really...now. OK - you asked for it. I've written a few times now about my need for and love of snow, right? I am absolutely amazed by the stupidity that follows the falling flakes. What in the gosh darn heck is she talking about? you may be asking... Well I'll tell you. I'm talking about folks who think they can drive in and on the snow like they would if it were 75 degrees and sunny with a straight road ahead of them and no traffic to speak of. I'm talking about the folks who rush to the grocery store en mass to stock up on milk, bread, toilet paper and whatever else they can't live without. (I said that yesterday, I'm saying it again.) I'm talking about folks who think that walking on surfaces that have recently been covered with snow that has melted some and then refrozen (this is usually called ice) is the same thing as walking on a sandy beach in Tahiti. Use your brains people! And there wasn't even that much snow to begin with! Not that I'm saying I'm perfect, because God knows I'm not; I'm one of the most accident prone people I know... But I do pay attention when I know the weather might trip me up, both literally and figuratively. Which brings me to a slightly different, though still accident-related, subject. Hubby broke our French Press last night. (...this is me pouting...) He was putting dishes away and dropped a heavy glass tumbler (a virtually unbreakable thing I got at Kroger for $0.99 about 2 years ago) on to the fragile lip of the poor coffee press. The glass of the French Press burst into several large (and small) shards, and Hubby got a nasty cut on his finger. Of course there was blood and air being sucked through clenched teeth for pain control and hydrogen peroxide, Neosporin and a Band-Aid... Then the clean-up of the glassy mess began. I took this upon myself because Hubby was now an invalid and I didn't want him to bleed everywhere. Then, Careful Idiot (that would be me...or, as Hubby called me later, "Dumba**") managed to cut HER thumb on the broken glass, too! Mine was superficial and didn't require any doctoring, but it did bleed a tiny bit and I'm honestly afraid of glass right now. (Remember the Foot Incident at Tybee Island?) Anyway - everyone's OK. Hubby is still sporting his Band-Aid and I'm doin' fine. The only real tragedy was the loss of our lovely French Press. Oh - and in case anyone is interested...I must really be a dumba** because about 20 minutes after the "accident" I almost asked Hubby if he wanted me to start the water so we could make coffee. (Um...what?) TTFN JMS PS: If anyone is interested, I found a GREAT blog called Incidents and Accidents - I laughed SO hard at the post titled Jump to the Jam, Boogie Woogie Jam Slam. Enjoy!