There Will Be Blood! (Mine)

I need to get me a bubblewrap suit.
I need to get me a bubblewrap suit.

My new house husband role is going quite well, I’m pleased to say. I like keeping things tidy and writing more often. I also like the fact that my efforts are decreasing Ellen’s workload. No longer does she have household chores to contend with. She can enjoy her new teaching job and take comfort in knowing that things around here are just fine.

Well, except for the injuries.

I’m a wee bit accident prone. No biggie; a lot of people are. My problem is that I only hurt myself when performing mundane housekeeping tasks.

I once tore a tendon in my index finger by tucking in a bed sheet. I wore a splint for six weeks because I needed hospital corners.

I have fallen down a stair, breaking my big toe. Not stairs, mind you. Stair. Just one stair.

I have fallen up stairs, too, onto a vacuum I was carrying. In that case I was uninjured, but the vacuum wasn’t; I broke it in two and, in so doing, became a human sized dust bunny.

And I have gotten four stitches in the palm of my hand in an attempt to clean dishes.

These accidents had not gone unnoticed by my wife, but she held her tongue — until the second day of my house husbandry. On that day I sliced my finger open attempting to slice a heel of bread.

Once Ellen came home from work and caught a glimpse of my crimson-stained, gauze-wrapped finger, she sat me down for a little talk.

“When we agreed to switch roles,” she began, using her best patient teacher voice, “you dying was not part of the arrangement.”

“I know.” I replied a bit chastened. “And the worst part was I bled all over the bathroom I cleaned yesterday. I had to clean the bathroom twice.”

“Noooo,” Ellen continued, her teacher voice revealing a hint of exasperation. “The worst part is the stabbing part. That’s the worst part.”

“Well, maybe, but the bathroom looks pretty good, doesn’t it?”

“Yes,” Ellen sighed. “It’s beautiful. Just pleeease be careful.”

“I will,” I promised.

And so far so good! No new injuries.

That said, upping my life insurance is probably a wise investment. I’d better talk to Ellen about this right away. Tomorrow I’m planning to mop the kitchen floor. God only knows what could happen.


117 Replies to “There Will Be Blood! (Mine)”

  1. The cut on my finger from slicing the lemon I put down the disposal to get rid of odors…just healed.

    You may not realize how truly wonderful a house husband is, especially at this early stage. I have had one for the last five years and it’s absolutely terrific. When I left corporate and decided to pick up a few cleaning jobs Rick made the decision to take on the household activities. He just didn’t think I needed to come home and clean after doing it all day. I find cleaning to be very therapeutic and it gives me lots of time to just let my imagination wander. I can start and stop when I want to,,,and I don’t have to dress up every day. 😀

    I’m with Ellen, dying is not part of the deal.

  2. I’ll send whatever bubble wrap we have left at the lodge – sounds like you’re going to need it more than we will. And, just so you know, the Kelly House is available the week of August 15 to 22nd. We do the housekeeping and cooking for you so you’ll be safe here!! 😀

  3. Speaking as an accident prone person, I sympathise! Great post. I’ve never had the pleasure of being a ‘dust bunny’! Although when I put moisturising cream on my kids’ toothbrushes (was in a similar tube-like form) my friend didn’t flinch but stated, ‘surely this isn’t the first time something like this has happened,’ so I’m sure hoovering could end in a similar fate! 🙂 Thanks for posting!

    1. I don’t see your toothpaste thing as a “mistake” per se; sometimes teeth need to be moister.

      There is a bright side to the Vacuum Incident, by the way (and it has nothing to do with my dust bunny impression); it led to the purchase of a Dyson. I never thought I would go nuts for a vacuum, but that Dyson guy should be canonized as the Patron Saint of De-Dusting.

      1. Ha ha! Yes, the Dyson is amazing! Happy Dyson days for you, then. And I hope your wife continues to enjoy her new teaching job. Teaching is a tough profession so good on her!

  4. It’s okay. I gave myself a second degree burn on dinner Thursday night, sliced the tip of my finger open on dinner Friday night, and face planted on the kitchen floor when I slipped on the garage step yesterday.

    We can wear bubble wrap suits together. And chain mail gloves with built in hot pads. It’s a new fashion trend!

    1. Holy schmoley! You’re worse than I am! Sit down and keep still, my friend. If you need something, don’t move; just let me know and I’ll get it for you.

      And yes, I do believe a wardrobe chance is overdue for both of us.

  5. I’m thinking now that you have more flexibility in your work day, you might want to sign up for a first-aid course. Better yet, just train to become a paramedic. Looks like you’re going to need it. 😉

  6. I feel guilty, really guilty, for laughing at you. So I’m coming clean (so to speak…). I’m laughing at you. But I think it’s alright, because you’re practicing comedic writing, sort of like a Laurel & Hardy in words, right? Because the active descriptors are so good, I’m still laughing…

    1. There should be no guilt in laughing here! My posts are designed to amuse!

      And, oh my, do I love Laurel and Hardy. More importantly, I got my son to love Laurel and Hardy. He and I often partake in my L&H 10-DVD (!) set.

  7. Hilarious! We should call you “Mummy Mike.” Sadly, I fall (literally) into the accident prone camp, too. My family doesn’t like leaving me alone in the kitchen with a knife or letting me climb onto stools to get things down from high shelves.

    I’m thinking a Michelin Man suit would serve you better than bubble wrap. You’d bounce instead of pop whenever you fall. 😀

  8. This is why I fear for the future of my twelve-year-old. Her biggest talent is walking into closed doors and falling up stairs. She makes me nervous every time she picks up a knife.

    When I was a kid I watched my dad almost slice the tip of his finger off cutting bread. While lecturing about knife safety. I was watching how close the knife was and said, “um, you’re going to cu-” Next thing I know there is blood everywhere and my dad is cussing up a storm.

  9. Aw! So sweet of you! Sorry to hear about your various injuries—I winced a lot while reading this—but it’s good to know you’re always in high spirits!

  10. Actually, I have a theory your “accidents” are actually a deep psychological need to get extra attention from your wife. This is indicated by spilling blood so she definitely notice the floors. She will no doubt inspect all parts of the house to check for possible body parts, noticing dusting of bunnies and the de cobbing of webs, etc. Nice technique. Going for a house-hubby manual?

    1. You have me all figured out, Cricket. My painful injuries are all a cry for attention so Ellen will notice a clean house that is now a jillion times more difficult to clean because I am bleeding all over it.

      Hm. Methinks I found a flaw in your logic there.

      I don’t think I have a HH manual in me, but I certainly wouldn’t be opposed to writing a book-length series of personal essays. We shall see…

      1. I tease due to the fact my hubs is the housecleaner while I go off and teach. He does a far better job of it than I. Must be that technical aspect of maledom that skipped me at the gene pool. He figured out the vac clog and routed those dust bunnies from their hidey spots faster than a self-cleaning oven. He thoroughly enjoys cleaning. I think a nationwide movement is in order.

  11. I’m pretty accident prone, but thankfully it is with inanimate objects rather than myself. We have a hard tiled kitchen floor – glasses and plates only have to look at it to smash. When my son was much younger, he brought home some pictures he had drawn at school and one was a drawing of me in the kitchen, he had written “My mum smashing plates”, and there I was in the picture looking like I was throwing plates! What must the teacher have thought?! I’ve just remembered, I do sometimes injure myself, there was one occasion when I dropped a glass out of the cupboard on to the kitchen counter, instinctively I grabbed for it, but it smashed and instead I grabbed a handful of broken glass. It was a firm grip, and for several seconds I was to scared to ungrip, because I could feel a bit of pain, and I could see a bit of blood emerging. Thankfully it was just a few very small cuts.

      1. You know what, I was wondering that myself after I wrote that comment! I probably still do…somewhere! I’ll have to have a look through all their old school books and stuff at some point to see if I can find it. It would make a fun blog post!

  12. I’m sorry for laughing, but I’m glad you have a great sense of humor about it! I’m pretty accident prone myself and the best way to prevent others from laughing at you is to laugh along with them.

  13. There is a lot of “accident prone” action in my house. I am always hurting myself one way or another. As long as the bleeding stops before I pass out I figure I am ok. On the other hand (the one that didn’t recently require a stitch) my husband tends to break our stuff. He drops glasses, plates…well anything that can break. Between the two of us we live in chaos. Would you like to come clean up for us?

  14. While this gave me a bit of a chuckle — good lord, Mike — be careful! It’s weird — the number of hazards one can encounter doing every day chores, not including operating heavy machinery 🙂

  15. …“you dying was not part of the arrangement.”
    Great line. They always say household accidents are more numerous than people care to admit. (Broken toes are the worst….no bare feet. Shoes with bumpers like those from Keen) Take care in there in the great indoors!

  16. Oh, Mike, I’m accident prone, too *sigh* Granted, sometimes things just happen TO me and it’s not my fault AT ALL, but many times it’s because I move too quickly—well, faster than my eyes and mind have to catch up ’cause they’re usually not focused on the task/motion at hand. That being said…the life insurance? Make sure there’s something in there about “accidental” death 😉

    1. I remember you being a quick mover at SCBWI. When you took me by the wrist and led me over to meet that Boy Bot author, I remember thinking “I wanna meet the Boy Bot author, but why am I *running* to meet her?” 🙂

      1. lol, of course, you would’ve witnessed more of the real me if I had walked into one of the large columns or a wall 😉 …I was just excited for you to meet anyone I knew you’d enjoy and EVERYone enjoys Ame. She is also the author of several other terrific PBs, including the newly released WOLFIE THE BUNNY if you’ve seen it. SO cute. Lots of Ame shows in that book and I love the back end papers with the author/illustrator notes and acknowledgments 🙂

  17. That was truly awesome. So glad you have an outlet for sharing those stories. Having a blog is great for improving one’s outlook on life. When something nuts around here happens, inevitably my husband or I (or even our oldest) will say, “At least that will be a good story for the blog!”

  18. Oh Mike, your poor finger(s!). I would soooo not like to become a human sized dust bunny. Vacuum cleaner dust is just the very worst kind of dust! I’m glad there was a positive side to that incident though, in discovering Dyson (I’m a Henry fan myself). I have a feeling Ellen might be sitting you down for a few more talks. PLEASE take care of yourself! You’re too funny to loose 🙂 How many fingers do you actually really need to type? Health And Safety Hugs, Harula xxx

    1. Sadly, I need at least nine fingers to type. (The only one that gets a break is my left thumb. Sadly, both finger injuries were my middles.

      I never heard of a Henry. Is that a European thingamabob? You guys have the coolest appliances.

  19. I’m SO late to the party, since I’ve been making my way through my inbox. But here I am! Freaking hilarious, you two!

    I’m the biggest klutz. Everyone says…no, you can’t be. You’re a dancer. Even bigger klutz. The universe has a sense of humor and dancers are notoriously accident-prone.

    Wishing you a safe and happy journey through your husbandly Hausfrau duties. I salute you.

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