Tuesday, August 01, 2006

Oranges and knives

I have stayed away from oranges and orange juice for almost a decade now because they are migraine triggers for me. Nevertheless, I love both the fruit and the juice. A couple of weeks ago nothing sounded better than an orange. So I picked one out for dinner.

At this point I should veer into a brief description of me handling a knife. First, I properly poise the instrument of destruction on/over the item to be cut. Then I apply just a bit of pressure; enough to know how hard/soft the item I intend to cut is, so that I successfully cut said item. I take my time, I am careful, I am cautious. And somehow I always end up bleeding profusely from some random digit.

Within but four short days of each other I had cut one finger to the bone and sliced the tip off of another one. Both hands had bandages. Both hands didn't quite work as efficiently as I'd like them to, as both were dealing with healing the damage I had wreaked upon them.

So I am sitting at the dining facility surrounded by uniformed soldiers, one small band-aid on one hand and a rather large bandage covering the tip of my middle finger, holding an orange in my left hand and a knife in my right.

A friend of mind notices me and pipes up "Are you sure you want to do that?" and followed that question with "Do you have any more band-aids with you?" Those that knew how I had come to be covered as I was laughed.

One soldier, however, just took the orange out of my hand and peeled it for me, then returned the rindless orb. Amidst the "Wow, aren't you spoiled?" and "Man, will ya peel one for me" and various other jeers, I thanked him and he winked in return.

I didn't care that the orange was especially juicy and that I ended up with juice running down my chin and both forearms, or that the citric acids were stinging my wounds. I felt delightedly spoiled anyway.

It's always the little things....

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