Homemade Butter

This is not a recipe. 

I was trying to scoop out the butter from the stick mixer with my finger when I hit the button and set the blades rotating again. Two seconds later I'd thrown the mixer across the kitchen and let out an almighty scream. Tom has been sick and suffering from terrible back pains. He's been unable to move for a couple of days, but when he heard that scream he ran like the wind. He found me sobbing over the kitchen sink as it rapidly turned red. I just held my hand limply and cried because all sense of what to do in this kind of situation had left me as I stared blankly at the blood gushing out of a wound I could not see.

I had just wanted pancakes. Why can I not be trusted with blades?

He scooped me up, disinfected the many lacerations and wrapped it up in a bandage. He made me drink water and sit while he bustled around in the kitchen for a minute and then emerged with a pancake covered in lemon and sugar.

I had made pancake mix to surprise him in his sorry state, but the tables turned and the mix I'd almost forgotten was now comforting me in my own misery.