Yesterday afternoon the boys and I were on our way home from our neighbors house, it was a beautiful day for playing outside. As I usually do, I called Paul to see what was going on with him, as the work day was coming to an end. He, oh so very casually, told me he was in the emergency room. WHAT!!!!! My first thought was his colon, but then I knew I would know about that. My second thought, WHAT HAPPENED! He tells me he cut himself at work. "OH MY GOSH, ARE YOU OK?" "Yes, yes I am fine it is nooo big deal." "I can come up there right now!" "No, you will just be sitting here - I"ll be home later." "Ok, TELL ME EXACTLY WHAT HAPPENED!" Seriously, it took me 10 minutes to get the exact story out of him. Paul carries a pocket knife, a VERY sharp pocket knife. He was opening a box toward himself and STABBED himself. He proceeds to tell me it is not really bad, he probably should not have gone up there, yada yada yada. Four hours later he arrives home. Ethan and I go out to meet him and he is shuffling up the sidewalk. Naturally, my first words to him are..."Let me see it." He sheepishly lifts up the gauze to reveal not one stitch (like he told me it would be), but SIX! Yea, no small cut there. It was 3/4 inch deep, and lucky it did not go farther and cause more damage. So as you can see, "Smart, Real Smart!"