Chainsaws and Butter Knives

Husband and I had quite a row the other day over something of great importance. About a year ago, I clamoured for a chainsaw. With all of the dead wood on our property, we have some great potential firewood. I even shopped around for one that I could use. My husband hated the idea and fought hard against it. He won that round and I never bought a chainsaw. Not because I ever listen to him, but because we ran out of money and I couldn't justify buying a chainsaw when we were eating rice every night.

A few days ago, I asked him what he told his mom we needed as Christmas gift ideas. At the top of his list was a chainsaw! Incensed, I told him that it was just like him to turn around and want something once I had let the idea go. He protested vigorously and revealed that the reason I was not "allowed" to have a chainsaw was because I would surely cut my leg off. And, he asserted that if his mother did buy us a chainsaw, I would not be "allowed" to use it! Not sure where he got the idea that he was "allowed" to tell me what I could and could not do. There really is no better way to get me to do something than for someone to tell me I am not allowed to do it. If I want to cut my leg off with a chainsaw, that's exactly what I am going to do. He continued to review evidence of my propensity for accidents and injuring myself with dangerous tools in error. Nevertheless, I let the topic drop for the time being.

Yesterday, I was rinsing our butter knives before putting them in the dishwasher. Husband left crusty cake on a butter knife and it had turned to cement. Vigorously scrubbing that knife and muttering under my breath about people who couldn't seem to rinse their own silverware, the sponge slipped and I sawed into my index finger producing copious amounts of blood. Cursing myself while trying to keep the blood off the dishes, my husband looked over and asked what was going on. I cut myself with a butter knife! Instantly, I thought of the chainsaw discussion. I was sure he was going to bring it up, but instead to make me feel better he showed me a divet on one of his fingers. He had injured himself with one of his own fingernails. Neither of us should be allowed to use or have fingernails or butter knives much less chainsaws. Discussion over.