Pop's Xmas Gift (Swiss Knife) 
2003 Reader Submission
Pending Acceptance
Santa surprised my Pop and I last year by giving us Swiss Army Knives. Being avid outdoorsmen, we were excited.
After presents were open, we both were assigned to clean-up duty - stuffing the wrapping paper and the boxes into plastic bags. During the process Pop decides cutting each box would make more efficient use of bag space.
So Pop grabs his new knife. Instead of a whittling motion, he whittles TOWARDS himself. On the third box, distracted by a bird he outside he hopes to "remove" from nesting in the roof, he cuts through the box and slash his hand, deeply, across the entire palm.
Jumping up with blood already hitting the floor and Pop yells in true holiday fashion, "Holy Jesus F@%K!" A first for my 76-yr old grandma, any my three-year old nephew.
He tears into the kitchen for the sink, almost knocking Mom down who is loading the turkey in the oven. At the sink, Pop determines swearing will not stop the bleeding and pouring water into the wound will not do the trick either. He finds a dishtowel and applies pressure.
Next thing you know I'm standing in the kitchen with a small boy crying, grandma scolding Pop for cursing, Mom yelling "911", and my older sister quite bewildered.
So Pop looks at me and yells, "Get the F@%King car keys and a bigger F@%King towel."
It was a very quiet drive to the hospital for two reasons: first Pop is agitated. You don't f@%k with Pop when he's agitated. Second, he gets woosy from the sight of blood. About halfway there I hear "straight and then right..." before he trails off.
Now, I'm not worried about this - it's deep, but not fatal. I'm more concerned about blood getting on the seats of my car. I think at this point this is why I miss the turn - I do not know the neighborhood - my parents moved when I was in college.
I make some turns, see no signs, and am just pulling into the 7-11 to get directions when he wakes up. We reorient, arrive at the hospital a little later then expected.
Nothing really happens at the hospital besides my opportunity to call Pop a dumbass, repeatedly. Thirty-seven stitches later, we're back home.
Upon return, my sister and Mom asking Pop how it happened. He explains by taking his knife out, and cuts towards himself, near his hand. Sis does not see this, and he repeats the motion - just before my 3-yr-old nephew runs up to hug him around the knees. Started, he sticks the knife into his wrist.
So, to the hospital again, this time I shave twenty minutes off my earlier time as I have been there before...recently.
The same check-in clerk is busy closing the file from the first time around, recognizes my dad and reopens the file and says, "What is it this time?"
On a side note, I did nick my own finger testing the blade when I opened my own knife the first time, proving I was lucky but related somehow.
Submitted on 08/13/2002
Submitted by:
Steve Trigger
Reference:
Personal Account 12-25-01
Copyright © 2002 DarwinAwards.com
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