Saturday, August 7, 2010
I swear that Turkey Butt is one of the clumsiest people that I know. This, added to the fact that he works as a chef in a hot kitchen 6 days a week, causes me an excessive amount of stress. He also happens to be very bad about informing of his numerous injuries, as you will soon read.
One night I got a text that essentially said, "I may need to go to the hospital." After an hour of unanswered texts and calls, I found out that he slipped on ice spilled from the ice machine and didn't end up at the hospital. Another night, I received a phone call along these lines, "Since you said you wanted to know these things, I'm calling to tell that I burnt my face pretty bad. I'll let you know if I have to go to the Emergency Room." That night it was another hour before I got the back story and realized that he didn't require medical treatment. But hey, at least he called...? Earlier this week, I got a series of texts informing me that he burnt his hand really bad and got to go home early. He spent that night with his hand in a bucket of cold water as he slept.
Cut to today...
About two hours after he left for work today, I get a call from TB asking me if I had any small bandaids in my Jeep's First Aid Kit. Since I've gotten used to his clumsiness, I simply told him "I don't want to know", hopped into the Jeep and drove to his workplace. Upon arriving I find Turkey Butt with a fairly deep gash (and large bump) going horizontally across the bridge of his nose. While laughing, I cleaned and bandaged the wound. Then I got the story behind his "boxing injury" as I'm supposed to call it. Apparently one of the teenage dishwasher's was holding up a baking sheet for Turkey Butt to punch (he is an amateur boxer) but he didn't have a good grip on it. When TB hit it, the baking sheet somehow flew into his face and sliced open his nose.
Oye! This is my life...