The horror. The sacrifices.
We all know Micaa is not a drinker. A couple long island iced teas out of the gallon vodka jug and she is done. (Uh huh. I know wbat I did there.) She also likes to cook whe she is drinking. Hrmm. Maybe that is dangerous. Well, I havent burnt the house down (yet.) I gusless that means I have my Daddy’s genes. I always remember that Daddy had to have his whiskey. Now I am not that bad off but I can tell you this; when I got older I was afraid to get in thw car with that man if he DIDN’T have a drink or two in him. He was notorious for scaring the bejesus out of my mother. He just ended not being able to drive correctly sober. I know. This goes against the grain of the law and everything that is morally correct. Sad but true.
Ah, but I digress. Dinner. I like to cook and listen to music when I am partaking of the “tea.” Today, I was cooking spaghetti for me and the kiddos and some seasoned pork neck bones for Cal. Of course this is all last minute and I have to defrost everything. The neck bones were already out on the counter when I got off work so they were technically halfway there. The hamburger, that was another thing. I make an ill fated attempt at defrosting the hamburger. It must have been juicy when we divided it up and put it in the freezer because the end of the tube that I pulled out of the freezer had frozen beef blood caked on it. Thinking ahead, I did not want to have zapped beef blood pooled around my defrosted hamburger and attempted to take the wrapper off. While doing so, the warmth from my fingers started to flake off the frozen plasma. This was turning into a bloody mess (no pun intended.) It got on the wall, the electric skillet, the counter, floor, and my shirt. UGH. MY FAVORITE SHIRT!! I got over it quickly. I was doing laundry too. It will be washed out post haste.
On to the neck bones. They were still frozen together but nothing a pry from a steak knife wont take care of. I put them into the pot I was going to boil them in. Because they were still frozen together, they stood about 6 inches or so above the top of the pot. I filled the pot halfway with water in an attempt to make the prying a bit easier. This is where it became fun. As pieces begrudgingly came off or as I turned the slab this way, or that, the water became bloody from the raw meat. It splashed….into the sink, on the counter, down the front of the cabinets, on the floor, and my shirt. UGH! MY FAVORITE SHIRT!!! AGAIN!
I later found out that it even got on the laundry room door. How? I have no idea! I just remember I kept thinking “Someone is going to think I either work in a slaughter house or I am making sacrifices to some unknown God for unknown reasons. OR….that I was a bit tipsy and had no idea what I was doing. While the latter is CERTAINLY not true, It was horrible because I had to clean that mess up and I don’t do bodily fluids well. I don’t care if it is a pig or a cow or a kid. Bodily fluids = ick.
So I shared my horror of the day with you. Have you ever done anything that should have been a horror movie in the abstract? Tell me!
What do YOU think?