While attempting to make this:
I got into a fight with this:
And now I have this:
All in all, not the best start to my morning.
I was attempting to make hot tea since I didn’t have time to make coffee and was out of creamer to at least disguise the taste of awful office coffee. I used my handy-dandy teakettle that I sometimes suspect is just for show to heat up some filtered water. Shortly after taking that lovely photo of my beverage steeping in my new portable cup, beautiful swirls of steam rising up from the green-tea goodness, I realized there was extra water left in the pot.
“My,” I thought to myself. “I should go ahead and pour this out, for there will be no time to do it later.” (Or something along those lines.) I don’t really know why I chose to pour out the excess liquid right after removing the kettle filled with boiling hot water from the stove, but I did.
As I was pouring, the top lid of my formerly friendly sadist-teakettle popped off into the sink. Before I could react, the hot steam was bathing my hand in a not-so-loving embrace. I dropped it into the sink, but the damage was done. My hand was burned worse than Taylor Swift at the VMAs.
I remember from my days schlepping seafood at Red Lobster in high school/college that someone once told me to douse a clam-chowder burn I received while over-pouring into a soup with cold mustard. “It takes out the sting,” promised the aforementioned co-worker .
I thought I remembered it working, so I reached into the fridge and got to spreading the chilly condiment onto my hand. It looked something like this:
Verdict? Still hurts like hell, and my hand looked like it’s starring in a poorly-funded production of the movie Carrie.
I wonder if this really works or if there is someone out there, secretly laughing at all the dummies (like me) attempting to heal a burn by dressing their skin like a hot dog. (I was thisclose to adding a dollop of ketchup to see if that would make matters better.)
Oh, well. I’m sure all the people at work think I’m on suicide watch (read: large obvious white bandage taped to my wrist). I’m biding my time checking the shiny blisters forming on my fingers. At least breakfast was fun.
I had a toasted whole-wheat bagel thin with dark chocolate peanut butter that I ground up on my own at Earthfare. I topped each half with half of the sliced banana and ate the rest on its lonesome.
And oh, yeah. I drank that dastardly tea that I worked so hard for. Relaxing hot tea, my foot…or my hand, rather. What sort of kitchen disasters have you gotten yourself into? Sadly, I have plenty of stories. One that comes to mind is the great toaster pastry catastrophe of ’09.