I want these!! and Thumbs are Important!

Look at these super-cute cow silicone oven mitts!
I want some!
I've told you about my love of aprons.
I love oven mitts too!
I have oven mitts in all shapes and sizes.

But these cow ones are just too cute!

One thing about oven mitts...
You really need a thumb to work them properly.

Did I ever tell you about the time I almost lost my left thumb?
No?
Well, it's true. I almost lost my left thumb when I was 17 years old.

Flashback: 20 years ago.
It was spring break, and my BFF Marlene and I were cruising up and down the seawall in Galveston, TX.

We were enjoying the fresh sea air,
watching all the cute boys who swarmed Galveston Island for their vacation.

Big, thumping, booming car radios were BIG at the time.
Everyone who was anyone had a BOOMING sound system in their vehicle.
The sound systems usually cost more than the bucket of bolts they were installed in!

As we made our third lap along the seawall, we felt the bass behind us.
Yep... it was so loud that you didn't actually hear it - you felt it!
We immediately checked the rearview mirror.
That's when we saw them.
Inside a slammed-low-to-the-ground silver pickup truck with green spatter-paint graphics all over it,
there were two really, REALLY cute boys!
Marlene stuck her head out the passenger window and yelled "Hello"!
They motioned for us to pull over.

Of course, being stupid 17 year old girls, we did.
They ran up to my little Suzuki Swift and asked us if we wanted to ride with them.
Marlene jumped out of the car...
I was a little more hesitant....
"What if they were murderers?"
"What would our parents think if they knew we got into a car with out-of-town boys who may or may not have the intentions of chopping us up into stew meat and dumping us into a ditch?"

The driver brought the moonroof out of his truck and asked if he could leave it in my car while we rode around.
My mind was instantly put at ease....
If they were gonna kill us, they wouldn't leave their moonroof in my car, right?!?

We were off.
They were not only cute, but they were really nice too!
We cruised for a few hours and talked, getting to know each other.
We were having the BEST time!
Cruising with two super-cute new boys in an incredibly cool truck with the loudest radio on the island!

We eventually stopped at a little store, and the guys ran in to grab some drinks and snacks.
This gave Marlene and I enough time to giggle and make claims to the boy that would be "ours".
Mine was Micky, the cute driver. Hers was John. We were both happy with our selections.

Soon the boys returned to the truck and squeezed in.
It was a very tight fit, 4 of us in the front bench seat of a truck, but we squeezed together.
My arm was over the back of the seat allowing Micky to get in.

When he slammed the truck door, it shut on my thumb.
OUCH!!! I screamed in my mind, but didn't say a word out loud.

I tried to wiggle my throbbing-smooshed thumb free from door.
It wouldn't budge.
It hurt SO badly! But I sat silent.
I didn't want Micky to feel bad!
I didn't want him to know he hurt me.

We drove around for about 15 minutes.
There was loud music.
There was laughter.
There was flirting.
Finally, I could take it no more....

"My thumb is in the door." I quietly said.
No one heard me over the laughter and thumping bass in the truck.

I elbowed Marlene in the ribs....
"My thumb is in the door." I said again.
"What?" she asked.
"My thumb is in the door." I calmly repeated.
"Your What is in the What?" She screamed to be heard over the music.

"My thumb is in the door." I repeated.
"No, it isn't!" she laughed.

No matter how badly I wanted to avoid it, I had to tell Micky.
I leaned over and whispered into his ear....
"My thumb is in the door." I whispered.

He looked at me.
Then he turned to look in the door.
Thats when he noticed my bloody hand with it's thumb disappearing into the door frame.

Brakes squealed, Marlene screamed, Micky almost died from guilt.
T-shirts were ripped off to bandage my smashed thumb.
8 million apologies were said.

It was exactly the scene I tried so desperately to avoid.

The moral of the story?

Teach your children to speak up!
It DOES matter!

If I wouldn't have finally confessed my situation,
I would NOT be able to use an oven mitt properly today!

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