I have learned that every daughter-unit (Alpha and Beta for this
example) reaches a particular female milestone at some point in
their lives -- The Screaming Squeamish Stage. Luckily, with time
and patience, most are able to overcome this major stumbling block
(unless it has to do with snakes and lizards) and become mothers.

A while back, while working in my suburban patch o' dirt I did the
unthinkable and took my brain out and set it in the direct
sunlight. During this time, I didn't water it, I didn't rotate it
for equal sun burning; I just left it there.

Simultaneously, the Body-Ranger was teaching¹ D-uA and D-uB² about
the "Importance of Safety" while working with les ustensiles avec
anguleux. I lost my concentration at one point around a
sharp-and-pointy set of sheers and fumbled them. In order to
prevent my tool from dropping point-first into my steel-toe boot,
I reached out and grabbed it -- blade-first, of course. I hadn't
realized how sharp their edge was until I saw a scarlet line
across my palm³.

As I pressed my finger across the line and closed my fist, it
started to gush. Not just any normal gush, like one would receive
from an honest-to-goodness knife cut; nope... This was The Bloody
Show -- and D-u's A&B took their cue as if they'd rehearsed it for
weeks. Both bolted around to the garage screeching (the little
girl screech) like banshees about my "hand being cut off" and I
was [obviously] "bleeding to death" and She "needed to come
quick." SWMBO dropped what she was doing and managed to get D-uA
and D-uB turned around and headed back to me (there was that
momentary bit of confusion where my exact location was during
their brief exchange.)

She /was/ a little surprised that I was still standing, and
definitely annoyed that I was smiling. My blood, although all over
both hands by this point, was nowhere near the level that she'd
been led to believe by my erstwhile reporters. She led me inside,
all the while reminding me not to "bleed on the bloody carpeting,"
that I was to keep my fist closed, and, that if I opened my hand
"one more time" to look at it, the local police would become
involved because I would bleed to death... [You'd think I was a
child or something!]

SWMBO washed away the grimy and gooing mess to reveal a single cut
that a simple gauze bandage would "fix." I got a work-furlough for
the rest of the day and deciding that Body-Ranger wasn't missing
anything, and left my brain to baste itself until later that
evening.

SWMBO also took the opportunity to talk about reactions and
situational awareness but I'm pretty sure she wasted her breath.
Those acorns didn't fall far from their maternal oak. <G>

¹ It's one of the benefits of having three very active,
highly-absorbent, human sponges. Whatever Daddy is doing is
obviously going to be fun so I have a built-in audience that
serves to stroke my over-inflated ego.
² Daughter-units Alpha and Beta. The Spawn was tasking SWMBO.
³ No trip to the emergency room, ergo no stitches required and no
tetanus. (This Tim Allen-wannabe is all caught up on his shots!)

The Ranger