10. Every time I make a right turn, I turn on my windshield wipers with my splint.
9. I have to eat Asian food with a fork.
8. Darn it! Darn it! I won’t be able to cut out 18 sets of skeletons, pumpkins, turkeys, pilgrims, cornucopias, etc. for Laura’s teacher. (Just kidding Ms. S!)
7. After using the restroom, wiping is . . . er, never mind this one!
6. It’s only enough of an injury to make folding laundry a nuisance, not an impossibility.
5. When people at church kept asking me how I hurt my finger, I kept saying “pole dancing lessons” and now I probably will go to Hell because that was a lie, although I wish it were true because the truth is not filled with nearly the same prospects as pole dancing lessons might have to offer.
4. I’ve had to admit to everyone outside of church that I actually jammed my finger while cleaning my kitchen sink.
3. I also had to admit to Tom that now he really can work the remote control better.
2. I have to type my blog entries and emails with eight digits, and it hurts, but I can’t go for long stretches of time without my keyboard.
1. Having my fingers splinted together makes it harder to “communicate” effectively with rude drivers on the road, but on the bright side I can still make the “Live Long and Prosper” sign.