Box Cutters, Box Springs and Belligerent Pomeranians

So yesterday started off as any other day at work, everyone showed up and things were going fine. I was in the back and heard a yell, an "oh shit" and a thud... Yikes. I go out to see our prankster stockboy hurrying into the staff room with his hands together. He'd been at work all of 15 minutes. I called out to him to ask what had happened and he said he cut himself. Duh... on me. Anyway, in the staff room he's got blood down to his elbow and is running the water over a massive cut that almost cut his whole finger tip including the nail in half. Ouch. After of about 10 minutes of pressure, water and me trying not to pass out every time I asked to see it we concluded it might be a good idea to take a run up to the health centre to get him stitched up. So at the health centre, the nurse on-call deemed that as it was a clean cut from a box cutter it didn't need a stitch. She asked me if I wanted to come in and sit with him, and I guess I must have turned a little green and said "No" a little to emphatically, so she took him in alone and glued him back together and put on the biggest most ridiculous looking bandage ever. He came out with about 4 feet of gauze wound around his finger, wrist and hand and we both tried not to laugh as she is telling me how he should be taking care of it, as if I were his mother. We get in the truck and he puts his hand out and without cracking a smile says "I think she overdid it a bit". So back at work, I go and report back to the grocery manager that he's back in one piece and got a huge bandage. So he pages him up to the office and when he came up, the grocery manager asks him to give him the box cutter he was using and to use "this" instead. "This" was a plastic knife from a takeaway cutlery pack. Hilarious. So a little while later this same kid and I had to deliver a box spring. Of course, given that this guy is 16, he'd already taken off most of the bandage and was poking it and got it bleeding again. So we drive to the house to make the delivery and he won't get out of the truck. He says "i hope that dog doesn't bite..."... I see no dog, so I ask him which one. He points to a tiny, fluffy pomeranian and says "that one". Me: "YOU are afraid of THAT????" and collapse against the steering wheel laughing. Him: "It's MEAN". Me: "That thing is half the size of my brother's CAT". He gets out and literally edges along the side of the truck. I hear this menacing little growl and the little fluffy sorry example of a dog is quivering in fury. He starts creeping towards the house and the dog just went beserk, snapping, barking and jumping. Speaking of jumping, I have never seen anyone in my life jump as high and as fast as this kid who spun around and ran so fast he ran straight into the truck and nearly jumped over the side and into the bed. I believe it took me about 2 1/2 minutes to stop laughing, only to look up and see the homeowner laughing his head off as well. The poor stock boy is still cowering (but laughing) against the side of the truck. The home owner yells something to the dog and it managed to let us up to the house and up the stairs to the door to deliver the box spring. We come out and the dog is again growling and shaking with wrath. So, just as I was about to push the stock boy down the stairs ahead of me, I turn around to see him leaping over the railing and jumping 7 feet to the ground. I yelled at him for leaving me up there with the dog at the bottom, and I crept down half the stairs when the dog started spitting and snarling at me. The stock boy starts laughing, the dog forgets me and goes after him again. I ran down the stairs and the stock boy is on the far side of the truck, laughing and refusing to get in the passenger side. He gets in the driver's side, climbs across the seat and I get in and it's another full 3 minutes before I could drive because we were laughing so hard. For the rest of the day, every time I saw him, I laughed. And will probably do so tomorrow.