It Was About Time For Another Disaster.
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YOU: “What am I even looking at?”
ME: “Oh, that’s the kitchen timer countdown thing.” (Said with a bit of a dismissive tone.)
YOU: “But it’s in pieces.” (Said with a bit of a ‘clearly I’m talking to a mentally handicapped person’ tone.)
ME: “Uh huh.” (Said like everyone does here in the Midwest.) [Serious ‘uh huh’ culture shock when we got here like a decade ago, really. Sometimes it’s said with exuberance instead of ‘you’re welcome’, and sometimes it’s said with a flattened air of resignation, like when our yoga teacher sees my form after telling us what to do next. So it would go like this: ‘Move into chair pose… (she’d look at me, cover up a wince, then say)… uh huh.’ No- it would be more like ‘Move into chair pose… (look, wince-cover-up, then)… um hmmmm?’, as though with a question mark at the end.]
YOU: -silence-
ME: “Yeah, so that’s what happens when you have a kitten who thinks things like kitchen timers are toys to knock off the top of the counter while you’re in the shower with a cake baking in the oven.” (Said passive-aggressively, which is a quality I truly despise now that I’m trying not to be passive-aggressive anymore.)
YOU: “What happened?” (Because you’re riveted by this truly fascinating story.)
ME: “The timer had like 10 minutes left on it. I shower fast so I knew I’d be out in time to hear it beeping, but the beep never came. I came out maybe 20 minutes later, with the timer in pieces on the kitchen floor. I fixed the timer. I couldn’t fix the over-baked cake though.” (Always a sad story, seeing a Buttermilk Vanilla Cake go to waste*.)
YOU: “But didn’t you notice that all that time had passed after you got out of the shower?”
ME: -silence- (Looking at you passive-aggressively, though.)
*The cake wasn’t wasted. The Husband just ate it/ choked on it, because obviously I couldn’t serve it to anyone else all crumbly and dried and crusty.Related Recipes & Posts: