Those are the very words that just came from my husband’s mouth. This would be quite funny, as I’m a pretty decent cook and baker, but sadly, I have the wounds to support this statement. Let me recap for you…
- I broke one of the Reidel wine glasses because I wasn’t thinking, plain and simply. I put a stoneware casserole dish on top of the glass in the drainer, so it really wasn’t a surprise – though that didn’t mean I didn’t curse.
- I dropped half a dozen eggs on the floor. Mind you, I needed each and every one of those eggs. Luckily, since it was for cooking later and they’d need to be broken anyway, I salvaged the cracked ones.
- I was opened a can for the corn casserole and thought it would be smart to put the trash into the can and sliced my finger something fierce.
- I went into the one and only pantry (apartment living sometimes sucks!) and was looking for my can of creamed corn for the casserole and managed to knock over the fish sauce and spill it all over me. Thankfully, I was wearing an apron.
- I helped my friend out in her shop. It was my job to mix the dry oil sprays. I managed to get scented oil into my wounded and unbandaged finger (that I sliced just yesterday – see above). Not related to cooking, but still hurt like a mutha!
- All was good since I didn’t cook at all.
- Spilled grease all over my own work space in the kitchen.
- Nearly dropped the dirty frying pan…on me!
- Noticed the handle to the can opener might be too near the fire. I pick it up, meant to smell it to see if it smelled like it was melting and burnt my lip!! Seriously, it’s a nasty burn.
There were other various incidents this weekend, but to be honest, it’s all just one big injury-filled blur to me. So yeah, since I plan on making some cookies to ship to my dad this year, I think I might be better off if we do dig out that emergency kit. Or maybe I should just cheat and buy the pre-made cookie rolls from William Sonoma and call it a day.