I am not what you would call coordinated. I sometimes trip over nothing, or spill my tea before it has a chance to reach my lips. However, I have lived with this malady for many years so I have learned to deal with it and to know my limitations. (especially with kitchen equipment!) I didn’t think this trait was hereditary but I do believe my daughter has it also.
She saw a new kitchen tool that promised to make her cooking experience so much easier. It was packaged so beautifully, and seemed so simple to use. (these are the red flags for me. I am constantly on the look out for anything that says “easy to use”, or “make my life better”) She had ignored the red flags that I am sure most of you never have to worry about. She purchased this beauty and brought it home and was going to immediately try it out.
It was a slicer of sorts. It was “supposed to slice things like potatoes and carrots.” I was at the sink washing dishes and moving slightly away from this frightening tool. It had a very nasty looking blade and knowing my limitations I could have cut myself just watching.
She tried to use the guard.(yes protection from the blade) It wouldn’t hold the potato so she set it aside. Bells and sirens went off in my head but not quick enough to help my utensil challenged daughter.
I hear her groan and grab a gob of paper towels and run to be away from onlookers. By now she is on the floor in agony as she has sliced and diced two of her fingers.
I fly into action, having been here many times before. I shout out directions like a drill Sargent. Get the band-aids, get the ointment, check to see if we have scissors and tape. Bring me some gauge. I need wet paper towels STAT. I was ready for surgery!
Everyone snapped to order and got my materials. ( of course they had to ask where all these things were, and it was my husband, a 6 years old, and a 9 year old.)
I check the wounds and they were nasty. I got the bleeding stopped and had the band-aids on in record time. We were all so very serious and concerned. I wasn’t sure if stitches would be required. My husband was not so sure my skills were sufficient so he called her husband who said he was on his way home.
Then my granddaughter changed the atmosphere so quickly I almost missed the whole thing. Here mom is on the floor in considerable pain and she says,” Mom maybe you need glasses.” We all burst into laughter, even my daughter. The pain forgotten for the moment replaced by words of simple concern of a daughter for her mom.
Perhaps this was an Act of Love. Maybe we want the huge ones that we can see, neon light all around, but this I think counts. Have you seen or been a part of an Act of Love lately?
A glad heart makes a face happy…”