So...I had just finished some beads. They were the remnants of my terribly misguided British flag attempt, any my boyfriend wanted to go out (it WAS Friday...and although the 80 year old i have on the inside of me was a little more allured by the clay, I gave in). So I'm rushing to put all my stuff away. I go to sheath my clay blade when the sheath slips and my thumb runs right up the blade.
I make that hurty sound, and run away into the kitchen.
"Sarah," my boyfriend asks sounding a little concerned (but not really because he knows what a klutz I am) "Did you just cut yourself with a giant razor blade"
"It's not a razor blade!"
I say this because just recently I purchased my clay blade after having cut my self pretty bad on an ACTUAL razor blade while working on clay.
"It's just about as sharp as one." He yells back to me.
Gotta love that boy, cause he knows what he's getting into with me and he doesn't mind.
Pictures of the damage to follow maybe....tee hee hee