One time I split my thumb open.  Right at the top, where it opens again every time you move it.  I busted it while carrying a bucket of chai into the church and ran into the doorway.  I cut it on the iron sheet.  Clean cut, too.  
No, I did not cry, despite what Hyda will tell you.
WorldTimeServer Clock
| Nairobi | 
Sunday, May 18, 2008
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