Thursday, December 31, 2009
A little off the top
It's obvious that I should not have
or try to cook.
I was making lasagna the other day.
Thought I'd surprise The Husband.
I have the noodles in the pot, cooking.
I have ground beef sizzling in a pan,
and I'm chopping some onions,
when I decide that some extra meat
might be nice with the lasagna.
And slice a bit off the top of my thumb.
Despite how much it hurt,
all I can think is:
TH is never going to let me live this down.
I tightly wrap it up,
slap a bandaide on it,
and continue to make dinner.
I'm a trooper, if not coordinated.
But it won't stop bleeding,
and I quickly soak through two bandaides.
I finish cooking the sauce
and the noodles,
but my thumb is beginning to ache.
And I'm getting a little worried,
'cause it won't stop bleeding.
I call TH at work.
"When are you coming home?" I ask, my voice a high-pitched falsetto, trying to sound all innocent. He doesn't buy it.
"Why?" He sounds suspicious.
"Now don't laugh when I tell you this," I warn, "'cause it hurts and it won't stop bleeding."
He laughs anyway. "Were you trying to cook again?" And I laugh in spite of the pain and the need to choke him. In a rush of words, I tell him what happened, and he immediately puts his Responsible Hat on.
"Is it above the nail?"
"Well...it's good that you didn't chop your thumb off."
Always looking at the bright side. Thanks, TH.
By the time he gets home, the bleeding is minimal. It looks like I'll live to ring in the new year. But I'm a little sore and I don't have the energy to put together the lasagna. So TH kicks me out of the kitchen, puts it all together and throws it in the oven.
He calls me to dinner and when I sit down, I notice that his place setting has a knife and fork. Mine only has a fork.
"You need to earn your right to have a knife."
"Very funny," I sneer.