"Pinning" Finger

I have to tell you an old story to tell you a new story:
Thirty odd years ago when my husband and I were engaged it was our first Christmas. And we had cut down a real tree and he was going to trim a few small low branches. Well I was a girl living alone and I didn’t have any utility knives but I got him a large kitchen cleaver, and he started cutting. (Toward himself, obviously he wasn’t a boy scout.) The knife slipped and he stuck his finger in his mouth and started yelling and jumping around the room. I was trying to grab his hand and see the damage but he kept jumping around with the finger in his mouth saying, “Oh my God ith’s my pinning finger, ith’s my pinning finger!”
“What the hell is a pinning finger I asked?” handing him a wet washcloth.
He covered the finger with the cloth and spat out, “My spinning finger you idiot!”
“Well then what the hell is a spinning finger?”
“The finger I use to spin a basketball!”
Well we finally examined the finger and it was a small slice and the spinning finger was in tact!
“Well it looks fine,” I say.
“It could still heal with a bump and throw off my spin.” He said in a disgruntled, whiney voice.
I thought he was making a bit too much out of a little cut. And since he wasn’t a basketball star nor did he play for the Harlem Globe Trotters, I couldn’t see the importance of a spinning finger. Well it was important apparently. And I guess I was lucky we even got married after that.

Now here is the new story:
Last night after a grueling day at work I fried fresh fish for dinner and made a nice meal etc...so after dinner my husband was helping wash the dishes while I put the leftovers away. All of a sudden I heard a muffled screech and I saw he had his dish-soapy hands by his face with one finger in his mouth. So I figured he had cut himself. There were no knives in the sink. (I never do that.) He had cut it on the metal tongs. Okay, obviously not easy to do as I wash them every night, but it happened. So I said, I’ll take over the dishes and you go put a Band-Aid on it. I handed him a paper towel and he went into the bathroom. I finished up all the food and dishes (about 15-20 minutes) he was still in the bathroom. So I walked in and see a spotty bloody paper towel and Band-Aids everywhere and ointment and so forth. So I say with humor, “do we have to amputate? Or can we save it?” He doesn’t see the humor in that.
He is holding up his hand, finger pointing upward. So I put on some ointment and a couple Band-Aids. “You’ll be fine in a couple days. But I don’t think you will make the try out for the Globe Trotters again this year.” It was his “pinning” finger don’t you know!