don’t be an idiot.
When I mention the word “terlelas”, do you know what I am talking about?
Some people understand me, but most don’t, unless I mention the word with a little bit of motion.
I have been obsessed with many, many things of late and one of my obsessions include pancakes. And no, not just eating them, but rather, making them. I guess I miss baking but I don’t have a Kenwood Chef (yet) where we are staying and so, anything involving a little bit of floor would do for now.
On Maulidurrasul, we did alot of cleaning, ironing, mopping. By the end of all that, I knew that I had to treat myself to some pancakes. I made the batter and was ready to put them on the pan. I decided that I needed some butter and reached for the knife. Then, I thought, since it’s butter, I might as well use the butter knife, right?
Right. That was one of the best decisions I made that day.
In all my impatience, I decided to not wait for the butter to reach room temperature. That’s okay. But against my better judgement, I decided to NOT use the chopping board and held the butter in my hand.
The knife went through the butter, but seconds later, I also realised that it went through something else.
My finger, that’s what.
The top part of my skin (on my middle finger, if I may add) was almost completely severed. I would have been okay if it had not bled so much, but it did and the skin was flipping and I saw a tiny bit of my flesh while I left my finger under the running water. I called my husband who came running to the kitchen. He got me ready and we went to a clinic. Good decision. I was bleeding non-stop.
We got the finger treated with “Epiglu”. It was supposed to “sew” the top part of my finger back to my middle finger. I don’t think its working. It doesn’t hurt much anymore, but it bleeds when knocked against hard surfaces.
The point I’m trying to make is that... well, if you are intuitive like me, LISTEN hard to your intuitions. I had a premonition that something like that would happen, hence my butter knife decision, but didn’t listen to my head when it shouted “chopping board!”.
Your palms are not chopping boards.
(Ikea) butter knives are deadly. Keep out of reach of children. And adults who think their palms are chopping boards.
I think I deserve this. For not listening to my mom (when I cut my finger, her voice was echoing in my head *nanti terlelas jari, girl multiply by 100 times per second*. For not listening to my husband. For not listening to myself.
(the reactions I got when I told my parents were surprising. I thought Mama would be the one who would get all panicked, but nooooo, Babah was the one who got all worked up because I cut my hand. haha. Daddy’s girl sangat)
Some people understand me, but most don’t, unless I mention the word with a little bit of motion.
I have been obsessed with many, many things of late and one of my obsessions include pancakes. And no, not just eating them, but rather, making them. I guess I miss baking but I don’t have a Kenwood Chef (yet) where we are staying and so, anything involving a little bit of floor would do for now.
On Maulidurrasul, we did alot of cleaning, ironing, mopping. By the end of all that, I knew that I had to treat myself to some pancakes. I made the batter and was ready to put them on the pan. I decided that I needed some butter and reached for the knife. Then, I thought, since it’s butter, I might as well use the butter knife, right?
Right. That was one of the best decisions I made that day.
In all my impatience, I decided to not wait for the butter to reach room temperature. That’s okay. But against my better judgement, I decided to NOT use the chopping board and held the butter in my hand.
The knife went through the butter, but seconds later, I also realised that it went through something else.
My finger, that’s what.
The top part of my skin (on my middle finger, if I may add) was almost completely severed. I would have been okay if it had not bled so much, but it did and the skin was flipping and I saw a tiny bit of my flesh while I left my finger under the running water. I called my husband who came running to the kitchen. He got me ready and we went to a clinic. Good decision. I was bleeding non-stop.
We got the finger treated with “Epiglu”. It was supposed to “sew” the top part of my finger back to my middle finger. I don’t think its working. It doesn’t hurt much anymore, but it bleeds when knocked against hard surfaces.
The point I’m trying to make is that... well, if you are intuitive like me, LISTEN hard to your intuitions. I had a premonition that something like that would happen, hence my butter knife decision, but didn’t listen to my head when it shouted “chopping board!”.
Your palms are not chopping boards.
(Ikea) butter knives are deadly. Keep out of reach of children. And adults who think their palms are chopping boards.
I think I deserve this. For not listening to my mom (when I cut my finger, her voice was echoing in my head *nanti terlelas jari, girl multiply by 100 times per second*. For not listening to my husband. For not listening to myself.
(the reactions I got when I told my parents were surprising. I thought Mama would be the one who would get all panicked, but nooooo, Babah was the one who got all worked up because I cut my hand. haha. Daddy’s girl sangat)
Shy to comment? Well, never mind! Your reactions mean the world to me! Make me smile today :)
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