When Nana bandaged my hand

During the period when my wife and I were engaged, I lived with a friend of mine in a roach-infested very-low-rent apartment in Fort Smith. In those days, some of the fast food places would give away glasses (made of real, but thin, low-quality glass) as premiums. I got one. Later, when I was washing dishes (we did that occasionally) in the apartment, I was forcing my hand down into the tall, narrow glass, and it splintered under the pressure. I gashed the outside of my hand pretty substantially. I immediately applied pressure with the other hand, but that made it pretty difficult to do anything else. Besides, I had nothing with which to bandage it in the apartment. I managed to drive to my fiancee's home, which was not many blocks away, and asked her mother for help. She bandaged me up nicely, and I lived, and the rest is history.