I'm Scared of Knives

There I said it. I feel just a little bit freer after making that declaration. I seriously am terrified of them. I don't even like to look at them and I hate using them. But since Joelen of Joelen's Culinary Adventures has "Picture of Your Knives" as one of the July events to partake in, I'll tell you about the three experiences that have left me knife scarred for the rest of my life. The first incidence happened when I was a kid. I was trying to cut a mango and accidentally sliced my palm. Ouch. The second incidence happened when I was 16 and I was trying to sharpen a butcher's knife (I worked at Quiznos) and instead cut myself deeply by the thumb on my left hand. The last and most traumatizing incident happened a week after I graduated high school. I was trying to clean the meat slicer (again at Quiznos) and ended up slicing off the tip of my right index finger. I was rushed the emergency room, given a tetanus shot, and spent the summer laying in bed on pain meds. Thinking of that last experience still makes me cringe. Because of all of these experiences I refuse to have real knives in my house, much to Alex's dismay. Instead I rely heavily on my butter knives and some steak knives: