She caught her left forearm between a heavy mail-sorting table and a countertop that's screwed into the wall of our new home office (thrilling pictures to follow). After reattaching the legs I was standing the table up and she was guiding it into place when she said, "Stop!" Wasn't that easy because the thing was, as I said, solid wood and heavy.
"Which way should I move it?" I said.
"I don't know!"
After a few seconds of helpfully standing there trying to move the table and not move the table, she managed to free herself, escaping with a nice bruise about an inch wide, going around her entire forearm.
Sort of looks like a tattoo popular among weight lifters and frat boys. Except instead of meaningful Celtic or Asian symbols, it's just a bruise.
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