It ain’t so easy today. Yesterday more than one nurse said, “The log spitter won, eh?” I am overwhelmed with the plethora of paths I could take this thumb sucking ordeal.

Wow. That’s gonna hurt. That’s what I thought before I took my glove off and gave my buddy a thumbs up. I won’t go into the gory particulars, but I knew immediately thumbs don’t hang down like that, not even a tip of one. He set his chainsaw down (Imagine if I had been on chainsaw duty?!) and grabbed something to wrap it up and off we went. He felt terrible, but it wasn’t his fault I was all thumbs.

The sliver silver lining is the left thumb was smashed, above the joint, so I can still bend it. My right thumb bowed to the left and said, “One, two, three four, I declare a thumb war!” If thumbs could smirk, old righty was at it with dimples.

A day later my left thumb is oppositional not apposable.

A day later I imagined all the cool nicknames. Tom Thumb. The Green Thumb. Thumbalino. Thunder thumb. Dumbo thumb. Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Thumb.

So many.

My brother asked me if I could snap my fingers. Why is it called that? Without the thumb there is no snap. I also learned, technically, the thumbs are fingers. Apposably, I’m a slow learner.

I wonder if I can commit a crime with my left thumb. Will there be an identifiable print I leave on a glass the interrogator shoved my way? I will be a lefty if ever I get arrested.

I feel bad going on about my digit disaster when many of my immediate family are going through a smashing flu bug…but my thumb! My Thumb!