My mom was tasked with most of the Thanksgiving cooking this year, which I correctly predicted would result in her constantly telling us how she could have done this or that better even though it was all delicious. But Mr. krista said he'd make dessert. Yesterday I looked over to the kitchen and saw blood all over the place. I was immediately horrified and asked if that was his blood (well yeah, duh), but he brushed it off and said, while holding his gushing finger, that it wasn't so bad and he had "just sliced my finger through on the mandolin." Ugggghhhh.
Anyway, hope your finger regrows or whatever. Thanksgiving is a dangerous time. Our blood-stained apple thingie was great, though.