Not too painful, but more worrying. When you see the bruise spread beneath the skin some bit of the inner man is always liable to quail.

She did apologise, but then added 'Well, it was mine to break, anyway.'

I conceded her point and now wander around muttering: 'You broke my.....no I shan't do the washing up, I'm injured.' But she still hands me the dishcloth despite my protests.