My church has a monthly get-together for the ladies where somebody teaches the group how to do a craft, and all of the attending women then do the craft themselves.
The other night was my first time to attend this gathering, and I was a little nervous about my crafting skills. I mean, I’m pretty good at certain crafts, but having to do something in a group setting always makes me nervous.
The craft was table runners. The examples they had were adorable, and after hearing their instructions, I felt certain that I could make a cute table runner, too.
I cut all of my ribbon and ruffled it up like one of the examples, and before long, I was ready to glue. Feeling pretty confident, I moseyed on over to the hot glue station and began gluing. And just as it always happens to me, once I felt confident, my carpet of confidence was ripped out from under my feet.
I was gluing the ribbon, and when I pushed down, the hot glue came through the tiny holes of the ribbon and burned my finger. So naturally, being the crafty blonde that I am, I immediately touched it with my other finger to try to get it off.
As you can guess, that finger got burned, too. And in about a five-second window, I touched that finger with another, and then that one with another. And in no time at all, I burned five fingertips.
It really hurt a lot worse than I let on, and I had to do a lot to hold back some words that certainly wouldn’t have been appropriate at a church function.
I felt like I needed to rush over to the sink and run the water on my hands until the pain went away, but I didn’t want to seem dramatic. Once the burning sensation subsided (only to be replaced by throbbing), I continued my table runner. When I finished, I was happy with the results.
Feeling proud of myself and a little confident again, I went over and helped myself to a cup of hot chocolate while the other ladies were finishing their table runners. I took the first swig, and the instant it touched the inside of my mouth I regretted it. It burned my tongue worse than the glue had burned my fingers. And being at a church event, I had to fight back the urge to spit it out across the room. Instead, I had to swallow it and it burned my entire throat the whole way down. I kept my cool (I think?) and only let a few beads of sweat pour down my forehead.
I carried my awesome table runner in my hands as I mingled a little more with the women.
All in all, I’d say it was a successful night. I mean, no big deal or anything. I only burned off five of my fingerprints and the majority of my taste buds.
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