I have wondered if I ought to tell you this, but the possibility for humor outweighs my dignity.  Like always.

It was a coworker’s birthday today, and another coworker made him a pie.  She made a pecan pie, because they’re his favorite.  We all had some.  As I ate my way through my slice, I glanced at the spoon and noticed some red residue on the underside of the bowl.  I thought it odd, but perhaps I was scraping a little too vigorously and was removing paint from the plate.  I kept checking at intervals, and there was still red something on the bottom of the spoon.  The plates were dark green, so they could not be the source, and the pan the pie came in wasn’t red.

I finally got a mirror out of my purse and checked.  Yes, my mouth was bleeding.  I hoped it was spontaneously bleeding from the abundance of sugar, but alas, it was not to be.  I looked again and saw that I had cut my lip on the inside.  How had I done such a thing?  Why, with a spoon, of course!  HOW ELSE DO PEOPLE CUT THEMSELVES IN THE MOUTH EATING PIE?  Remember how people who are a danger to themselves and others are not given forks or knives?  Well, in my hand a spoon can be just as dangerous.

Now if you’ll excuse me, my mouth stings.  Still.

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