So I've finally cut myself with my rotary cutter. To be more specific, I sliced off a bit of the tip of my finger. You know what? That hurts. I also figured out why 3 year olds don't cry over their injuries until they see the look on the parents face. The look on Eric's face when he saw my finger and then the piece of skin on the rotary cutter...and then I burst into tears. Certain faces make you think it's all over...that's it...over. The drama here is all the things you're scared of as a kid, you're still a bit scared of as a grown up. Stitches, blood, looking weird, pain...it's all still there waiting for a rotary cutter to let it out. And when it's free, it is free indeed.
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