It's a bad month for anything glass around here. I've mentioned my klutz gene before. I spend at least ten minutes a day cursing gravity, walls that jump out from nowhere and my tendency to bruise easily. I've passed this on to my child, and even though it's against all laws of genetics (or NON-genetics) I've somehow passed it on to the dog. (She was spinning in an excited circle tonight and somehow misjudged the distance between her noggin and the wall - thunk!) I've broken three plates and bowls in the last three weeks. And today was ridiculous.
The PLAN was to leave the car running in the driveway while I rushed a few bags of groceries into the house, threw perishables into the fridge and then got my tooshie to a friend's for dinner. Opened the door to Chad's truck (I drove it today, honey, it still works!) and out hops a jar of suicidal spaghetti sauce. Ka-BLAM. Kapowie. Fell with a wet, red, tomato-ey THUD and exploded all over the driveway. The most pathetic part of this story is that this scene is a replay of last week's spaghetti-sauce-kitchen-floor-explosion. Same brand and flavor of sauce - in fact this jar was to replace that one. The only differences between that and this scenario was that this time I could hose it off the driveway quickly, there were no dogs around to sneak into the trash bag and make off with tasty sauce-flavored glass shards, and I managed this scene of destruction in front of nearly ALL OF THE NEIGHBORS, who were having a party next door, instead of the quiet privacy of my own home.
Rest in sweet peace, Three Cheese. Maybe I'll go with another kind of sauce next time.
That is seriously the worst! I'm glad no one got spaghetti sauce wounds.
ReplyDeleteHa!!
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