Funny Guy Friday... The great pumpkin stapling contest?

     Funny Guy Friday is written each week by my husband Mark. So, I married a funny guy...
     Happy Halloween!
     Mine did not start out so well. Unfortunately, last night, an idiot ghost took over my body and I am currently typing with nine usable fingers.
     Like most of my stories, this one started a long time ago... about 25 years ago... when I used to invite my family over for a pumpkin carving contest. My family, of which I am a proud member, tends to be competitive about... well, just about everything. I have written about this contest before: here, here, and here.
     But just to review...
     I came up with the idea of having a family pumpkin carving contest back before I had even met Cheryl. For years, I organized and ran the Annual Palumbo Pumpkin Carving Competition.
     In the inaugural year, all my little loser nieces and nephews carved silly faces or worse yet, painted various colors that made no sense. Basically, some of them just colored their pumpkin a different color!
     Imagine that... they just colored their pumpkins! Seriously, even at the age of 3, did they think that that was the type of effort that would bring home the gold?
     Those silly little pumpkins did not even deserve the sympathy "Pap Pap vote" that every grandchild received.
     Ah... gotta love my dad.
     The Pap Pap vote was sort of a participation medal. I let the old guy stuff the ballot box because I knew that I had carved the winner. Plus, whenever I reached over to remove one of his illegal ballots and replace it with one of my illegal ballots, he would say something like... You touch that piece of paper, you are going to be picking up your teeth with a broken arm!  
     I did not think he'd actually do that... But I did think he was capable of doing that. I would think to myself... my pumpkin carving days would be over if he knocked out my teeth and broke my arm... so I'd let it go! Besides, I have always considered myself to be a benevolent dictator... let the old man have his fun.
     Anyway, that first year, I did blow away the competition with a haunted house that matched the napkins at our pumpkin carving party. It was ridiculously good, and, I might add, was done without a pattern.
     In subsequent years, my little bratty nieces and nephews raised their game.
     Their pumpkins became much more intricate, and my winning became more of a challenge. Of course, this meant that my carving became more challenging. But with the help of some friendly voting machines that changed Republican votes to Democratic votes... er uh... I mean... changed votes for other people's pumpkins to votes for my pumpkin, I still managed to win every year.
     So, what does all all of this have to do with my injury?
     Well, we no longer have the yearly competition, but I still like to carve cool pumpkins with my kids.
     Sort of continuing a family tradition in some small way, I was up late last night with Noah and we were putting the finishing touches on our pumpkins, when I had a little mishap.
     If you have ever carved a difficult pumpkin, you may know that there are times when you cut off an important piece by mistake. You don't start over, but, instead, you reconnect the important piece with a toothpick. That is, unless your wife has long since gone to bed, and you cannot find the toothpicks... or anything else for that matter... ever since she reorganized the kitchen.
     I started to look around for a suitable toothpick substitute when I saw it: an old staple gun that I have not used for years. I thought that I could remove one staple and straighten it out. As fast as you can say MacGyver... problem solved.
     Unfortunately, I could not break off just one staple from the tightly secured row of staples, so I had to get one staple out of the gun somehow.
     No problem. Just shoot the staple out of the gun into a cardboard box.
     I grabbed the staple gun and shot away.
     Did I mention that I had not used this staple gun in years? I forgot that the end of the staple gun, where it looks like the staples should come out, is the end you are supposed to hold... and vice versa.
     As I shot the staple gun, I felt a twinge of pain and immediately thought that I had pinched my finger in the shooting mechanism. When I looked at my ring finger, I saw one of the sharp staple prongs alongside my finger, just missing being plunged deep in.
     Wow, how lucky was I that I did not have a staple actually plunged deep into my finger?
     Then I started to think that the staple looked kind of weird because there was only one sharp prong... I honestly thought that the staple broke in half and that I had to find that other half so nobody would step on it.
     It didn't take long to find that other half. as the throbbing started shortly thereafter! Yes, you guessed it, the other sharp prong of the staple was plunged as deep as humanly possible... into my ring finger!
     MacGyver, my ass! I wanted to cry out like a little girl but remembered that poor Noah was still within ear shot.
     Have you ever had to pull a staple... a long staple gun staple... from your finger? Well, I am here to tell you... it hurts!
     It hurts a lot. But the games must go on.
     My finger was not severed; it was merely bleeding. In a show of defiance, I took that embedded staple out of my finger... straightened it out... and hammered that bad boy into my pumpkin... thereby saving the severed piece and showing that staple who is boss!
     Honestly, using that same staple was less a show of defiance and more of a show of fear. I was kind of afraid to use that staple gun for a second time. Who knows what that thing would have done to me if given a second chance!
     Having been an athlete, I know the difference between pain and injury. You can play with pain,
but you cannot play with injury. I am proud to say... I played with pain.
   As I look back at my Herculian efforts from Halloween eve, I wonder...
   Could I have carved a pumpkin while picking up my teeth with a broken arm?
   Upon further review... I dare say, Yes, I could.