It's the Holiday Season.. the Silly Season, if you will. I have a house filled with dogs and kids and kids friends and girlfriends of boys and girlfriends of girls and random other house guests, so, at this time of year I do tend to cut corners... too much to do and too little time. You
know the scenario?? I know the knife is blunt, but I am too busy to
take that extra 5 mins
to sharpen it... that sort of thing. So the other night, my currently-unemployed
bum of a husband (he secretly loves it when I call him that!) was
cooking me dinner. I must admit, this coming home to a clean house, and
dinner already prepped is rather beguiling. I could do this whole
house-husband thing, if it weren't for the fact I'm a Nurse and earn crap money.
walking through the door, yelling "Hi honey, I'm home", to be greeted
with a glass of wine and moreish smells from the kitchen..... yeah, I
could totally get used to it.
Anyway, I digress... the other
night Furry was cooking steak and salad. And we had about a zillion
things to do (last minute pressie buying, wrapping, packing).. so in a
fit of pique, I muscled my way into the kitchen to hurry things along.
Now... I have a pan. A very sexy pan. It is my favouritest
pan in the whole world. It is made by a company called "Chef's
Toolbox".. My sexy pan has this name, chef's toolbox, embossed on its
Now, Furry had been frying steak in this pan. The Malliard reaction evidence was there in front of me. But what do you suppose my thought process might have been??
Newp. Whatever you're thinking, you're wrong.
mind said "Of for F's sake, hurry up, we've got too much to do to be
stuffing around with letting the bloody steak rest.. here... let me."
And with that I grabbed the pan.
By the handle.
Which had been frying steak.
And proceeded to sear my thumb to aforementioned handle.
Which, if you've been concentrating, is embossed.
dear reader, I am now the proud owner of a fetching BRAND on the ball
of my thumb. Clearly, in the perfect world, the word "tool" would be
permanently etched. Given that that's exactly the word used to describe
someone who grabs a hot frypan handle without a mitt. It would be the Universe's way of permanently reminding me of my folly.
I get "oolbo".. or when you turn said thumb around to look at it, "odloo"
I hope it's not permanent. "tool" I could have lived with. But "odloo"?
I'm going to warn you, that a few lines further down is a picture. Close this post now, if you have a weak stomach.
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