Day three of August Break.
Injury on the job. Aka I cut myself while cleaning kitchen knives.
Don't worry, the knife barely touched the bone. Jk, you guys! It was minor.
But I teared up and jumped and yelled as if a bear were attacking me.
My husband didn't even turn around until I finally said "I cut myself!"
Am I really dramatic enough on a daily basis that he doesn't look up when I yell or jump around?
Don't answer that. Rhetorical question, of course.
Notice that I'm in bed, with my hand to my head, as if I am inches away from death.