Fingers

My fingers made some breakfast and coffee. My fingers typed 1,500 words of a story all morning. My fingers prepared lunch, my fingers flicked through Open University course books. My fingers held a pen and a notebook and scribbled notes. My fingers took hold of the shop's laptop and found email and Internet settings and then my fingers turned it off and passed it back. My fingers took hold of my camera and then my fingers knocked on my son's door. My fingers held and clicked as my son's fingers pressed and picked at strings. (Before he told me to go away).
My fingers turned taps and held a flannel and washed my daughter's face.
Then my fingers grabbed vegetables and a knife, and chopped at leeks and peppers and themselves...

Yup. I chopped off my finger nail and a chunk of my finger.

I'll spare you the details. But I had a tetanus earlier this year when I attacked the very same finger with garden pruners.
Anyone who knows me won't be surprised. I am known for my clumsiness.

(typed one-handed)