It’s not often that a grown man can be reduced to a whimpering, sweary wreck by cucumber. But that’s the position I found myself in this afternoon.
Not that position, I hasten to add. While it would fit all the criteria, it is most definitely not what I am referring to.
The other day, while we were messing around with stuff in the bathroom, I fitted a new seal to the bottom of the shower screen. I was trying to move that across by the tiniest of fractions as there is a teensy bit of water leakage where the screen meets the wall. If I don’t deal with it, I will be subjected to Carole yelling down from the shower to tell me water is pouring everywhere.
Which it isn’t.
It’s pouring in a very specific place.
Haha. It’s not even pouring. Stand down the panic police.
Anyway, I tried to move it and rather than it slide along the screen, the corner of the screen went under my fingernail, into flesh. And it hurt. And bled. And I cursed quite a lot. There’s a reason shit like that is used for torture. I would have told you anything at that point.
Spin forward a couple of days. To today. This very afternoon, in fact.
I was undressing a cucumber from its plastic wrapping. Its unnecessary plastic wrapping. In fact, if we got rid of that wrapping this wouldn’t even have happened. I should sue the wrapping people or something.
As I was undressing said cucumber, I caught it with my nail. Which broke off a small piece of cucumber skin. Which went directly under the nail. The same nail that not two days before had had a decent piece of bathroom paraphernalia embedded in it.
I would have told you anything when it initially happened. This afternoon, I’d have told you anything and then gone out and found out more stuff to tell you. It was the single most painful thing I have experienced in a very, very long time.
There were tears in my eyes and a plethora of expletives crossed my lips like it was home time and there was a race to get out of a car park the quickest.
Salad’s supposed to be good for you, for frick’s sake.