Adam is deathly afraid of spiders, so the traditional spider handling role on our relationship is flipped and belongs to me. That's fine with me as long as we're never faced with anything too big, at which point we will probably have to just cut our losses and move out of our house taking only the items not in the room with the spider.
Anyway, I guess I'm used to Adam being the one who freaks out in stressful situations, because last night I was opening some packaging with a pair of scissors and somehow cut right through my thumb. I haven't cut myself this badly in ages, so I kind of froze and watched it bleed for a second. Adam was watching me and finally he said, "go wash your hands."
For some reason this confused me. All I could think about was my throbbing finger. So he repeated himself and left the kitchen, and I finally went to the sink and washed my hands. When he came back, he was carrying a band-aid and the Neosporin, and proceeded to bandage me up. I'm pretty sure that if I'd been left to my own devices I would have just waited for the bleeding to die down and then slapped a bandage over my germ-infested finger. And then this morning he instructed me to clean up the cut and replace the band-aid. And I was like, that is SUCH a good idea! Something I never would have thought of!
It's not that I get queasy at the sight of blood or anything, it's just for some reason injury care is not one of my fortes. So I think this is one of the reasons Adam and I are so good for each other: I kill the spiders, and he makes sure I don't die of an infected cut. It's a match made in Heaven.