Would you credit such foolishness...

It would seem that I can't even wash the dishes without having some sort of accident.

This one bled and bled like a bugger (luckily Mrs Mawoo was on hand with tea-towels and other such stop-the-blood flowing stuff). I've never seen so much blood up close! Eugh!

And after it stopeed bleeding and oozing my life-force all over the kitchen, was I left with a souvenir? A nice scar to show the grandkids (embellished with a suitably tall story)? Anything? No. All I was left with was that nick. I can't even claim to have been a troubled teenager with a cut that small, dammit!

And although you can't see it in the image, there's a bruise underneath the cut that aches a bit when I write and type. Bugger.

So I've got:

1. No big cut
2. No tall story
3. No hard-looking scar
4. A slight ache when I write and type

Hardly seems worth dropping that bowl now...

Just wanted to share. Apologies for umimpressiveness.