Kateastrophes

Last night we were watching Just Friends (hilarious, by the way, if you've never seen it.) I am comparing myself to the dumb blonde pop star character for the moment. Not because I'm a hot blonde pop star. Because she lights tin foil on fire in the microwave and causes an emergency landing in her private jet. I've DONE that -- several times (though sadly, not in my private jet. I seem to have . . . permanantly misplaced that particular item). The most recent fire adventure was with a City Hall box of lobster mashed potatoes. I didn't really notice the foil sticker holding the box closed . . . the top of our fairly new microwave is now scorched because I walked outside to talk to Matt while my mashed potatoes were heating up. THAT was dumb. I came back in to a foil wrapper and a huge fire in the microwave. Oops.

I think most of my Kateastrophes occur around food, quite honestly. There was the original one . . . shooting ice cream out of the Pizookie pan at Oreganos . . . it FLEW out of that pan and spatered all over me. Then the more recent egg yolk episode . . . somehow I managed to spill an egg yolk BETWEEN the stove and the cupboards while making breakfast. Not any of the white mind you, just the yolk. If you think about that, it meant that I had to remove the stove from it's place against the wall. That lead to realizing how disgusting it was under there (my advice is to never move that gosh darn stove) and then thinking "gee, I wonder what's under the fridge!" and proceeding to move THAT too . . . basically resorting myself to spending the entire day scrubbing the kitchen with a toothbrush. (piece of advice: the shopvac works MUCH better than any stupid vacuum. I need to make a pink, slightly lighter "housevac" or something out of that and market the crap out of it. That thing RULES).

Shortly after the egg yolk episode there was the baked beans episode. My container of take-out baked beans somehow managed to find itself not only open but at the perfect angle to dump cleanly underneath the passenger seat of my car. HAD TO SCOOP IT OUT WITH A SPOON. It didn't get on the seat OR the side of the door. CLEANLY UNDER THE SEAT. What is it about me?

Then on Thursday night i burned FOUR BAGS of chocolate and butterscotch chips I was trying to melt. Not one bag . . . FOUR BAGS. What a disaster. (Don't even ask what heart attack I was cooking up that required four bags of chocolate and butterscotch chips. That was just the topping!)

So, in case you didn't know, there are just a few reasons why my husband has dubbed these adventures Kateastrophes. And I take a bow. Always glad to entertain!