The Dangers of Sledding: A How to Guide

Sledding is a very dangerous past time. Almost as dangerous as wearing skinny pants on a regular basis. Let me tell you why in list form:

1. You might fracture a bone in your hand (that's what I did wednesday, yet some how I'm still typing)

2. Cooking eggs with one hand is a challenge.

3. Showering, dressing oneself, and styling one's hair takes some unique creativity with one hand.

4. Peeling clementines and other citrus fruits becomes extremely taxing.

Now, if I may, let me cite some good things about sledding (to the point of breaking your hand):

1. You can't wash your own dishes.

2. You have a good excuse not to tie your shoes.

3. When you slip and fall on your untied shoelaces and break your other hand, women will faun on you.

4. If you're lucky, one of your attractive care takers will fall in love with you due to the Florence Nightingale syndrome.

On this last note I will expound. Let me begin by saying that breaking any bone is a bother. It's inconvenient. It even hurts and itches from time to time (although one of my high school wrestling coaches always said if it's itching then it's healing - but healing or not I want to scratch it). But, even with inconvenience comes benefit. I, for instance, plan to milk this injury as much as possible. I might even dictate blog posts to people, have people read to me, tie my shoes, wash my dishes, and occasionally give me massages. And, even if I get some questioning look from whoever is helping me, all I need to do is grab my hand, wince a little and then look back at them gratefully saying, "I really appreciate it. You're my favorite." In a couple of days or weeks I should have successfully started a romantic relationship. I mean, nothing says romance like spoon feeding an invalid (That's me).

Mystery of the missing forks

After coming home from church, I was happy with the prospect of eating. I was going to reheat the pasta I brought home last night from a local Italian restaurant. And, I successfully reheated it, and even offered some to my brother. However, when we sat down to eat it, we realized something horrifically disturbing had occurred. We had only one fork. 

I checked the sink for dirty dishes. There were only 2, and no fork. I checked the drying rack. There were only spoons and knives. I checked the silverware drawer. Again, only spoons and knives. I checked the random kitchen utensil drawer. No forks. We had no forks. 

No hope. 

So, I ate my meal with a spoon (begrudgingly might I add). Oh, and to make things worse, the fork we were left with was a midget-sized one. Yeah, a shrimp fork. My brother used it, with tears pouring down his face.

I honestly do not know what happened to our forks, but I should have seen this coming. About a month ago we lost all but one of our big forks, and just today we lost all but one of the shrimp forks. But, I do have some theories as to how this has happened:

1. First and foremost I will blame the trash collectors, who have not only refused to take our trash, but now have absconded with our forks (Probably so they can do some weird trashman mystic rituals).

2. We have a clever criminal who has a moderately refined taste for IKEA silverware, and particularly forks. He could be Swedish, given that IKEA is a Swedish company, or he could be Chinese, because all of IKEA's stuff is made there.

3. Our forks left us. They just could not tolerate our cooking any longer. They probably ran off to Italy so their could skewer sausages for the rest of their lives.

4. Ashton Kutcher has devised his most carefully orchestrated PUNK'd episode ever. The filming is over the course of several months. He is starting to mess with us by stealing our forks, then he'll move on to where it hurts: our house plants and pillow cases. Bastard.

5. There are gnomes that live in our house, and they are plotting to take over by creating super-powered fork thrower that they will connect to the back of their pet fox. Their leader David will ride out gloriously in the midst of a charming Christmas dinner party and all hell will break loose.

PS - If you have any ideas as to the whereabouts of our forks please contact us immediately. This is a picture of Fred the fork, last seen with this pasta dish: