In the bathroom, where I was naked and vulnerable.
I shooed it out of the window using a decorative shell.
The Sparkly One has eschewed vegetarianism in favour of a more omnivorous diet, and from time to time her tastes are positively towards the carnivorous.
Tonight, dinner was fillet steak cooked so beautifully deliciously meltingly rare that the mashed potato turned pink.
It takes a special person to cut themselves with an electric shaver (it was a long time ago, alright?!) or even with a pair of pliers.
On this occasion, I had been invited to remove a particularly troublesome nail well-fixed into a wall. I was supplied with a pair of pliers, and the nail was at a slightly inconvenient height.
When the pliers slipped off the nail the second time, they landed on my left hand, which I had been using to support the right hand in its removal action.
The jaws of the pliers closed, bringing the wire-cutter-bit into the fleshy bit of my palm, and sticking there in an impressive blood blister.
Quite how I managed to split the end of my forefinger as well, I have no idea.
I am not the King of DIY.