First Aid In The Home

Trying to watch Rio Lobo while my Sunday dinner was being prepared, my concentration was broken by a primordial wail of uncertain emotional content from the kitchen.

Had her back gone again? In which case that would be dinner up the left.

Had Sunderland gone two goals down? No, they played yesterday.

Had the chicken spent two hours in the wrong oven? No, that would result in curses of despair.

As there were still sounds of activity from next door, I decided to pretend I hadn't heard.

Needless to say I was dragged into the crisis anyway. It transpired that a thumb had got in the way of a sharp knife, and blood was flowing. Luckily we were both First Aiders and the training kicked in in seconds. I turned the telly up a bit, and the injured party went to bandage up.

It is of couse impossible to find proper plasters when one hand is streaming blood, but the situation was saved with some toilet roll and parcel tape, and an excellent roast chicken dinner duly appeared!