Note: I wrote this Saturday night, when I was just starting to get feverish from the flu. I almost wasn't going to post it, but then I decided that feverish Erin is kind of funny. And probably not that different from real Erin.
I'm going to share a photo of this pecan pie that I made with my left hand the night I cut my thumb. Thankfully of the two pie crusts I made, one was tucked safely in the fridge and thus did not get hit by any arterial spray (do you like how dramatic I am? Do thumbs even have arteries?), so I was able to make it into a pecan pie because pecan pie does not involve any cutting.
The crust edges are not crimped or fancy looking because I was doing it one handed and wouldn't let Shane help, because it felt heroic to do it myself.
Here's a picture of me eating the pie, which I want to share with you so you can see how awkwardly I have to hold my fork. (If any of my friends comment and say this is how I always hold my fork, they are filthy liars and you should not listen to them.)
That is not my sippy cup. For the most part, I'm still allowed to use big people utensils. This is also not my house. I do not have a giant photo of a pug on my fridge.
I also wanted to share this picture to let you know that Shane did my hair. I could not figure out how to work my flat iron with my left hand without burning myself, nor could I position a clip correctly. Shane did both for me because he loves me. He's also been changing diapers because Tommy keeps grabbing my thumb during diaper changes. His only downside right now is that he won't throw away the apple wedger because he said it's still just fine since he washed it. What's strange is that Shane is very squeamish so it seems out of his character to keep it, which means that he's probably keeping it around to taunt me with at a later date.
Oh, and I was kind of excited because I thought that since I cut off the part of my thumb that has the fingerprint lines, then I wouldn't have fingerprints. But it turns out that skin is really amazing and you basically have to have leprosy to make it so that your fingerprints disappear. I was disappointed because I'd planned out this entire life of crime that involved only using my thumb and baffling the police (except that I'm totally going through that post-partum massive hair loss stage right now so they'd track me that way, probably), but also not disappointed, because at least I don't have leprosy.
Anyway, the whole point of this post was not to celebrate my not having leprosy (which is good), but to see whether you agree with me in that the apple wedger should be burned and then tossed down a deep well, or if you're like Shane and think it's not the apple wedgers fault that I'm clumsy.