Losing A Finger Is The Tip Of The Iceberg

(I’m at my parents for the summer, and my sister and her husband are visiting for the weekend. There are five adults and four of us have had oddly similar injuries. My eight-month-old niece is playing in a playpen and my mom is concerned that she’ll get her fingers caught in something.)

Mom: “Careful, you’ll lose your fingertip!”

Me: “Well, that’s nothing new in this family.”

Sister: “Raise your hand if you’ve lost a fingertip!”

(My sister, brother-in-law, father, and I all raise a hand. My mom facepalms.)

Brother-In-Law: *to sister* “How’d you do it?”

Sister: “Deli slicer!”

Brother-In-Law: “Me, too!” *they high-five* “What were you slicing?”

Sister: “Ham.”

Brother-In-Law: “Ah… tomatoes.”

Dad: “I was cutting my finger!”

(He was trimming hedges at work and mistook his finger for a branch. And then stuck his finger back on with a band-aid.)

Me: “I broke a glass sculpture.”

Dad: “Mine grew back!”

Brother-In-Law: “So did mine!”

Sister: “Mine, too!”

Me: “Mine didn’t. I’m still missing parts of my fingerprints.”