Ouch!

Steven is a man.

He likes manly things like guns and knives.

It is possible that my father had something to do with it.

For Christmas, he recieved a rifle.

A Mosin Nagant, a fully restored rifle, with  scope, from WWI as pictured below.

And for Steven's 23rd birthday this past July, my father gave him this:

Pretty cool, right?

Both of these items play in to one of the most 'manly' moments of Steven's life.

Yesterday, he got a rifle cleaning kit for the Mosin since we went out to shoot it the Saturday prior.

He sat down to clean it, with a wife-given designated gun-cleaning towel. 

He was so pissed off.

Complaining about how stupid the Winchester people are for packaging the kit for a nuclear bomb, I asked him if he wanted some scissors.

"No, I have my knife" was his reply.

I continued on planning my Primary lesson.

About 3 minutes later....

"Oh crap!"he yelled.

"What?"I asked

"I cut my finger"as he ran to the bathroom.

Leaning over the sink, blood. Lots of blood. 

He got light-headed and turned green. 

I gave him an ice pack and a kitchen cloth and made him lay down with the darned thing elevated.

It totally needed/needs stiches.

Being resourceful, I grabbed my super glue and 'stiched' him up.

I wrapped his little feeeeener(finger).

Once my dad gets home from Mexico, he will probably stitch it up.

As for now, he is a total baby.

He has his finger all wrapped up.

And since it is wrapped up, he can't bend the finger or basically use the entire left hand.

I pinched his bum in the kitchen and he screamed and freaked out because I scared him and made him tense up bend his finger.

I will give him credit though. 

Its pretty gnarly.

And this is the face that I get.

Poor baby.

He should have taken my scissor offer...