"Never do the washing-up without shoes."
This is my new motto. I intend to spread its wisdom far and wide. Don't make the same mistake I made, kids.
If you do, this will happen; you will drop a large, stainless steel carving knife onto your foot. By the same laws that make the Buttered Cat Array possible, it will impact point-first. Your kitchen floor will rapidly fill with blood. You will then face the indignity of having to summon an ambulance - or, if you're really lucky like me, two ambulances - to your home, to take you away to sew your foot back together, and in all probability drop you off at the Funny Farm afterwards.
I do have the consolation of having actually achieved a rather excellent shot - making a 2cm-deep wound just behind my toes without damaging any major nerves, arteries or bone. I am under no illusions that I could have managed such a feat of knifesmanship on purpose. At least two nurses asked while passing , "Are you the one who dropped a knife on his foot?", so I'm consoled to think that I've provided some amusement.
But now the anaesthetic is wearing off, and I'm hobbling around like some semi-clad plonker with a club foot, and looking forward to the prospect of a tetanus jab tomorrow. So heed my words, ye unwary - if you must wash up, steel-toed boots are the way forward.
My next trick; cutting my toenails with a scythe...