The 2026 July 4th Crock Pot Incident

July 6, 2026

Celebrating the Fourth of July has always been a fun little family thing. Some good food, drinks and fireworks. Simple.

So this year, why did I take my husband to the ER at 1030 pm and spend 4 hours there?

Was it a fireworks injury?

Nope.

Crock pot.

This year my FIL came over to join in on the fun. He had plans to take the kids to his house after fireworks for the night. Awesome. Nick and I knew we’d have a good night cap of vodka and gin - I’m gin, he’s vodka - watch an episode or two of Spider Noir, go to bed, sleep in and enjoy some quiet time.

But it didn’t quite work out that way.

After they left, we walked around and listened to the distant booms and saw the night sky light up like there was a huge storm brewing. The fireworks sounded 360° around us. I know some people hate it but it’s one of my joys. Everyone out there is celebrating and the sound is like a unity of us fellow Americans. It’s like one of the few and rare times I feel like we’re all in this together. It’s just a sense of unity and comraderie.

We spent a little time outside and watched the little neighbor boy happily send off his fireworks. And then we went inside. It was about 10 pm.

I went to take a shower, Nick stayed in the kitchen to wash dishes.

I had smoked a big pork shoulder for pulled pork sandwiches. I smoked it for about 3.5 hours and then put it in the crockpot to finish. (I know some major bbq people would totally frown upon that method but it’s the way this whole family loves it and I’ll always stick with it no matter what others think!) the crockpot needed emptied and washed, dishes put away, others done.

I got out of the shower around 1015. I heard a commotion knowing what it was and I shrugged and giggled to myself. The crock pot was broken. No biggie. I didn’t want him to fret and worry. No need to cry over spilled milk right? I quickly dressed and walked out of the bathroom and said “I heard that firework!!”

Little did I know it was more than just a broken crock pot. Nick said “I need your help. I cut myself pretty bad”

I rushed to see, there was blood everywhere, he was cleaning it up after himself but it wasn’t really stopping. He had dropped the pot while rinsing it in the old porcelain glazed cast iron sink and when he attempted to catch it I guess, he cut his right hand ring finger and pinkie. The ring finger was sliced down one side and almost took off the chunk. It even sliced through a corner of the nail. It was really odd. A freak accident. It was one of those times where I was uncertain what to do, and the last place ya wanna go on the 4th of July is the ER but I looked at that cut and said “I think you should go”

We debated, kinda questioned it, but then just got ready.

I gave him a damp paper towel so he could put pressure on it. I put socks on his feet before he squished his feet into his shoes. I changed out of my pajamas and into comfy leggings and a hoodie. Threw my tennies on, grabbed a water and out the door we went.

We got to the ER and with the construction going on the entrance was odd, there were 4 ambulances backed up to the ER entrance, firework injuries I assumed. The “walk in entrance” was off to the side. We walked in front of the ambulances, entered and wandered down this labyrinth of corridors feeling the sense of apocalypse. The lighted hallways were weird. Kinda felt like an airport. It was just an odd feeling. We approached the door finally and it opened for us. Nick walked in ahead holding his blood soaked paper towel.

We approached the desk, she asked what we were there for…

“It wasn’t fireworks.” Nick said. “It was a crock pot”

The lady at the desk said “we thought it was gonna be fireworks.”

“Nope”

We explained a bit further about the crock pot and the security guy said “was it buffalo chicken dip?”

“No” I chimed in “it was pulled pork. I smoked it for 3 hours and then finished it in the crock pot”

Security guy “mmmmm! That’s sounds gooooood!”

“It was!” I commented back.

She checked him in and said triage would call him back.

So we sat.

We watched the Cardinals game. Joked and laughed about the whole situation. Like seriously, who ends up in the ER on the 4th from a crock pot incident?

Yeah, that guy. The one sitting next to me.

The stupid accidents have always been me. Always.

So I sat there watching him hold the paper towel tightly around his fingers with the hospital bracelet on his wrist. Phwew. It wasn’t me.

He finally went back to triage (I didn’t go) where he answered questions and was asked if he felt safe at home. Or if he ever wanted to hurt himself. Ya know, typical hospital questions. He really wanted to say no but that he wanted to finish off that crock pot!! But he didn’t. He should have.

He came back to the waiting room and we sat and sat and sat. Listening to other people ailments. One person huffing loudly in suffering. One guy walked in puking his guts out at the front desk. I almost gagged. He was takin back and I told Nick that if I had to listen to that the whole time I was out.

Then he came out to the waiting room and sat close to us. Just what I wanted. Ooof.

So we’re just sitting there tryin to ignore the vile sounds and wondering where the fireworks injuries were.

Finally around 1230 Nick was taken back. I tagged along. I really wanted to see what they’d do. We both guessed they take off the flap and just cauterize it. And bandage the pinkie. But we really didn’t know.

He sat down on his hospital bed, I adjusted his pillow. I probably made fun of him and the situation more than I should have through it all but then, all him and I know is how to make jokes and make light of a crappy situation. And that we did.

And we sat just waiting and waiting for everything. I quietly shopped Amazon for a new crock pot. He about fell asleep in the bed.

The nurse came in the get all the info, scan him in, get insurance info. And let us know the dr would be in soon.

A half hour later, we hear the nurse and the dr chatting and I just hear the words “cut finger” and “crock pot”. Nick and I just chuckled. The dr came in with a little smile of wtf on her face. She did say it wasn’t her first crock pot incident. We assumed it would be. We even discussed that it was probably more likely to get attacked by a shark than attacked by a broken crock pot.

She looked it over and said she wanted ex rays to make sure there wasn’t porcelain shrapnel in the wounds. And then she’d stitch him up.

First of all, I was surprised they would stitch that. Second, it gave us the reassurance that we made the right decision to sit in an er for hours on the 4th of July. I don’t know about yall but when I’m hurt, or anyone else is, it’s always a huge question of should we go??? Should we not?

It was the right thing to do.

The dr asked his occupation and how he’ll handle that and if he needs a note to not go to work. Nick handles too much to be ok with that and just said “light duty” is good. I’ll handle it.

After she left to wait for radiology, Nick said “I wish I’d said I was a hand model when she asked my occupation”

Another missed opportunity to crack a good joke!

X-rays came back fine, and they were to proceed with the stitches.

The numbing injections came first and then we had to wait a bit for that to set in.

In that timing, puking guy came in the space next to us. Great. Just want I wanted to listen to. Lucky us!

It was bad.

The dr came back to stitch, our nurse apologized for the noises next to us. And the sewing began.

And without missing a beat the Dr told Nick, “Welp, your hand modeling career is over”

230 am, we walked out of the ER. I drove us home. I grabbed a gin and water, Nick got some water (they gave him Norco or wherever it’s called) and we sat till 4 am and watched one episode of Spider Noir.

Both of us slept in Sunday morning. Just a little later than I originally hoped to. So we still did what we wanted, just 5 hours later.

And currently ISO large crock pot if anyone has an extra to donate. Must be able to hold one large pork shoulder.

-AJ