I thought I’d have something moderately healthy for breakfast: poached egg on toast. I’m really picky about eggs, and will only eat them if they’re prepared Just Right. Poached eggs are one of my favorites, though. Mmmm
So, I started to make toast and cracked my egg into a bowl. I set the bowl on the stove and waited for the water to boil. When it began bubbling happily, I picked up the bowl and promptly dropped it. I’m a dork, you see, and didn’t stop to think that a ceramic bowl sitting rightthehellnextto a hot burner might get, oh, I dunno, a little warm maybe. Very warm, actually. I burned the hell out of my hand when I picked it up. The egg splattered all over the place when it fell. Half of it seems to have fallen into the burner pan, where it cooked to a crisp. The rest of it either coated the spice bottles next to the stove or ran down the front and sides of the stove-side cabinet.
I’m over the idea of poached eggs, so now I have to figure out what to do with cold toast. Maybe the birds will eat it? And I can’t even clean the burner pan–or cook anything else–until it cools off. Microwaving oatmeal would’ve been much safer.
So now I’m sitting here with an ice cube wrapped in a paper towel, typing whenever my hand gets too cold. I’m just glad that I managed to remember to buy paper towels, because I don’t even want to think of how else I would’ve cleaned up that unholy mess.
Can I go back to bed now?
red paper boat 