O.K., here's the back story. I alluded to good news about my daughter a while back and now it's a done deal and has been shared, so she and her long-time boyfriend have bought a house together and are excited about embarking on a new life together (and getting the heck out of their parents' houses - Covid brought us all closer together, but enough is enough).
Daughter was going through a closet in the mudroom looking for things to pack up or get rid of, like coats, old running shoes, etc. Whilst embarking on this quest, she noticed piles of birdseed and other evidence of rodent activity. So... she proceeded in pulling everything out into the hallway and dealing with this. I really wasn't intending to take on a big clean out, but it needed doing, so I helped her that evening (yes, the mouse was found, alive and well and yes the nest inside the skate was emptied out and yes things were thrown away) and then the next day, as she had to work, I continued and gave everything a thorough disinfecting. We have four big closets in our mudroom that are used to store seasonal coats/ boots / luggage / food items (in the pantry closet) and big awkward kitchen things like bread makers and canning pots, and cleaning items and supplies as well as hundreds of other things.
I dealt with that closet and checked in the closet right beside it. I didn't find any evidence of mice there, but it was a good excuse to go through things and purge some items which felt great! Life went on and then a day ago when I was getting something from the pantry closet I noticed an "eu de mouse". Oh dear. So another few hours were spent pulling things out, cleaning, purging, wondering why I keep buying tomato paste when I already have five cans, and then making a pile of "does daughter want this, or is it being donated" items (e.g. fondue pot, crockpot - I don't need three of them anymore- old blender). I did not find a mouse but I sense maybe someone has crawled behind a wall to die. Joy.
Daughter and boyfriend are here today and I showed them the items up for grabs. They said yes to the set of mixing bowls, the fondue pot (still in the box, never been used), and... the mandoline set. For those who do not know what a mandoline is, apart from being a stringed instrument, it is also a slicing device where you can slide a vegetable, for example, over it and get lovely even slices. Daughter's boyfriend told me he had once done some damage to one of his fingers on a mandoline. Ick, I thought, as I have kind of a blade issue - makes me go a bit weak in the knees. (Could barely watch "Edward Scissorhands").
Like the considerate mother that I am, I washed the bowls, and a mug, and the mandoline set in hot soapy water with some bleach thrown in, because there was a likelihood that the vermin had walked over these items. I knew to be careful when washing the mandoline. Then I thought, rather than letting things dry in the sink, I'll just dry them and pack them up and it's one more thing done, easy for them to take when the time comes. And yes people, yes, you knew this was coming, I managed to slice my finger while I was drying it. Honestly!!! Ewwwww - that feeling when you know you've done something nasty and you're waiting for the pain to hit. I shoved my finger in my mouth and raced to the bathroom while swearing (kind of muffled due to finger in mouth), grabbed the new box of "good" bandaids, tossed it to daughter and said, "Open this and get me a big one!" I put two on for good measure. Don't even want to look at it yet. At least it's my non-dominant hand, but I have to tell you, it has taken twice as long to type this post. I actually do type in the "proper" way - took typing in high school on big old manual type writers- and place my fingers in the right spots. Not today however. That left index finger is taking typing vacation.
My family jokes that I could cut myself on anything. Here is a short, honest list of things I have managed to cut myself on: paper, cardboard, the edge of an ice cream container, my own fingernail, the edge of a peanut butter jar, a bowling ball. I have likely forgotten many other examples, but I should explain the bowling ball. It was one of the bigger ones that have finger holes in them. I managed to cut my thumb on the sharp edge of the hole. Strangely enough, I very, very rarely cut myself using a knife.
So join in. Do you have a mandoline? Does it scare the living crap out of you? What's the strangest thing you've cut yourself on? Do you realize how squeamish and icky your possible comments might make me feel?