I accidentally impaled myself at work today. When Graham dropped in to see me at lunchtime, he spotted the plaster on my left palm and--holding his own, plastered, left palm aloft--asked how I'd acquired my wound. Blushing, I explained that I'd impaled myself on one of my dpns, whilst trying to access the shop's dustpan and brush. "Oh but that's incredible" he replied (totally throwing me, I was expecting either "that serves you right" or some sympathy) and then he continued "I impaled myself on on of your needles, too" (he's been doing a lot of rearranging of furniture and belongings, following recarpeting in our bedroom). It turns at that the accidents happened at about the same time!
So now we're palm mates as well as soul mates (groan!)