(no subject)
The extent of my stupidity goes as follows:
Earlier in the day, I go downstairs to tell my mother I took this IQ test and tell her what I got. She was all 'good job' and whatnot. A couple minutes later, I was making myself some breakfast. There's a knife on the counter that I haven't seen before. So, of course, my automatic reaction is "Oooh! New knife!" I play with it for awhile and notice that I can cut through the holder that's containing. And I cut through. I'm so excited by this that I don't notice until about 30 seconds later that I have made a big slash through my thumb. When I do, I supress a scream. It's bleeding. A lot. And I don't want my mother to find out. So my first instinct is to run my finger under some water. Still bleeding. I know! Grab a kleenex! Still bleeding. So, I tuck my bleeding hand into my pocket and "nonchalantly" walk into the bathroom. Once I'm in there, I could panic. I grabbed anything I could find to stop it. I was running it under water. Had ice on it. Put half a box of kleenex on it. Put a bunch of cotton balls on it. So, pretty much, I'm freaking out. My dad was in the room next to the bathroom so I shove my wound in his face and say "Daddy, omg, wtf should I do!?" And like usual, he says "Uh..I dunno...Put some water on it." "ITRIEDTHATANDITSSTILBLEEDINGANDIMGOINGTODIEUNLESSITSTOPS!!!" "I can't help you. I'm busy." Thanks, Dad. So I went back into the bathroom to bleed to death. Debating whether or not I should fetch my mother. I opened one of our numerous drawers and found my solution. BANDAIDS! I took a moment to decide if I wanted to go with looks or comfort. I went with looks. So, I grabbed a cotton ball. Sucked on my finger to get the blood off. Slapped on the bandaid and now I am no longer bleeding.
That I know of.
Earlier in the day, I go downstairs to tell my mother I took this IQ test and tell her what I got. She was all 'good job' and whatnot. A couple minutes later, I was making myself some breakfast. There's a knife on the counter that I haven't seen before. So, of course, my automatic reaction is "Oooh! New knife!" I play with it for awhile and notice that I can cut through the holder that's containing. And I cut through. I'm so excited by this that I don't notice until about 30 seconds later that I have made a big slash through my thumb. When I do, I supress a scream. It's bleeding. A lot. And I don't want my mother to find out. So my first instinct is to run my finger under some water. Still bleeding. I know! Grab a kleenex! Still bleeding. So, I tuck my bleeding hand into my pocket and "nonchalantly" walk into the bathroom. Once I'm in there, I could panic. I grabbed anything I could find to stop it. I was running it under water. Had ice on it. Put half a box of kleenex on it. Put a bunch of cotton balls on it. So, pretty much, I'm freaking out. My dad was in the room next to the bathroom so I shove my wound in his face and say "Daddy, omg, wtf should I do!?" And like usual, he says "Uh..I dunno...Put some water on it." "ITRIEDTHATANDITSSTILBLEEDINGANDIMGOINGTODIEUNLESSITSTOPS!!!" "I can't help you. I'm busy." Thanks, Dad. So I went back into the bathroom to bleed to death. Debating whether or not I should fetch my mother. I opened one of our numerous drawers and found my solution. BANDAIDS! I took a moment to decide if I wanted to go with looks or comfort. I went with looks. So, I grabbed a cotton ball. Sucked on my finger to get the blood off. Slapped on the bandaid and now I am no longer bleeding.
That I know of.