Filed under: Uncategorized
Tonight I came home to a real treat. The sounds of metal bashing around the kitchen with the smell of something sweet baking in the oven. As I ascended the stairs into the kitchen I realized that my perception of what was transpiring in was slightly off.
I had assumed that there was some baking going on. I was half right. My wife was baking, but had used my mothers baking pan. The baking pan had required “some oil” (quotes here imply that my mother said this) to ensure that whatever was being heated in it would not char and stick. Unfortunately for my wife, and for all those who would consume the baked goods, the baking pan was 35 years old and had long-lost its fine, smooth, black finish. The state of the baking sheet could be compared to one of those chairs wrestlers use to smash people over the head with. It basically looked like someone fired a hockey puck at it for an afternoon.
Due to the decrepid state of the baking pan, the squares my wife was trying to create had decided to make a permanent home within the pan. Upon my arrival into the kitchen I witnessed her using a butter knife like a hammer, while her body was wedged between two countertops to ensure that her power was maximzed as she unleashed each blow to the pan of squares. Chunks of skor squares were flying from the pan across the kitchen, as black flakes of metal floated through the air. It was like a snow storm in hell.
The only thing that filled the air more than pieces of dough and worn teflon were my wife’s shrieks of profanity that followed each raging attempt to dislodge her squares from my mothers high quality cooking surface. I have never experienced fear and hilarity at the same time, so this was another first. The only thing that would have topped off the experience would have been for my mother to return home and receive the molten wrath of a woman whose efforts had been sabotaged.
Only 127 days left.
Leave a Comment so far
Leave a comment
150 Days 