Life Lessons Learned the Hard Way.

I am, as I may or may not have said before, am extremely accident prone and a bit scatterbrained. This being said, Don't judge me for what I am about to write here.

When I was twelve years old, I was having a very boring summer.

At this point in my life, I was still reading things like "American Girl Magazine" and watching Nickelodeon cartoons all day long. One afternoon, as I was flitting through one of my precious magazines, I found a smoothie recipe. I mean, they printed it in 'American Girl' so how hard or dangerous could it be?

I went and begged my mother in anticipation, swearing to clean up any and all messes made and promising to share the fruits of my labor with my younger siblings. She allotted with a heaving sigh of surrender after a few minutes.

So excitedly I ran downstairs to my kitchen and began my escapade, getting out all the ingredients necessary, along with the large, heavy glass blender my parents had received for their wedding 18 years prior. I measured out, poured, and plugged in.

Whirrrrrrr. Dang it.

Stupid peaches were not reaching the bottom to be chopped up. Instead they were floating nonchalantly at the top of the mixture, proclaiming their defiance to my superiority as Supreme Smoothie Maker.

I stopped the blender, opened the lid, and poked the rebellious fruit with a fork. I then replaced the top, and turned it back on again.

Whirrrrrrr. Stupid dang peaches.

I paused for a moment, letting the blender run, thinking hard on how to make them obey.

An epiphany! I picked up the fork I had used before, blender still running, with a smirk on my face, proud of the innovation I thought I was so clever for.

The next few moments didn't pan out exactly has I had intended. I reached into the running blender with my fork and began to shove the peaches down to the blades at the bottom.

I will never know if the peaches actually reached those blades, because right at the moment, the fork made contact with the spinning metal tool and all hell broke loose.

By this, I mean the entire blender shattered in front of me. And I mean SHATTERED. Later, there was literally almost nothing but the base of the machine and a few inches of the glass bottom.

I remember freaking out, screaming and practically having an aneurysm, crying out at my younger sister who was standing nearby to "Help me help me help me!!!"

Somehow I got it turned off. However, by this time I had also had time to realize that my hand was bleeding profusely.

I am crazy needle/blood/shots/etc phobic, so i pretty much swooned. I ran to the sink and ran my hand under the water, freaking out like nobody's business.

My mother eventually came down, after hearing all of the pandemonium I had caused, and went on to help clean it up, take me to the emergency room, and all that jazz.

What is the life lesson learned, praytell?

Never put a fork in a running blender.