Adventures in Rachael Ray-ing

Yesterday Kirsten and I agreed to make this awesome-looking (and, awesome-tasting) chicken shepherd's pie out of Rachael Ray's Big Orange Book. It seemed simple enough, and after a trip to the store, we were ready to cookify this thing.

Part of the recipe calls for a portion of store-bought shredded carrots, but I figured that was a total waste of money - better to buy a single carrot and shred it myself, right? I mean, I've got knives, I've got a cutting board, I've got a cheese grater...

And that's where the trouble started. See, I know how to julienne carrots. It's really not that hard, and in retrospect, it would have totally made things much neater. Now that I think about it, so would a Graty. But no, I just had to use that box grater.

About 30 seconds into grating the carrots, my hand slipped, and, wouldn't you know it, I grated the tip right off of my finger.

So I'm bleeding everywhere, but I managed to hold the wound closed, while still getting medical tape and getting Kirsten to open up a Band-aid for me. I cover the hole, I tape the Band-aid down, and I calmly tell Kirsten that I've sliced the tip off of my finger, and I probably won't have the same fingerprints ever again.

So what does she do?

She laughs.

Why?

"Because I knew you'd do something like that."

That's right, readers. I am so predictable to my wife that she even knows what injuries are going to befell me. Now, if only I could figure out a way to get injured by winning lottery numbers...