Kitchen Tried To Kill Me Yesterday...

I swear, the kitchen has it in for me.

As I was getting the kids out the door for school, I realized I didn't have my keys in my hand, so I turned around to grab them off the counter. In one graceful, fluid motion, I banged my thigh into the corner of a rolling butchers block that we keep extra equipment (like a bread machine, toaster, etc) and such on.  That's going to leave a lovely bruise.

Later on in the morning as I was fixing lunch for Emily, it tried again.  Grandmother was talking to me as I was getting the chicken salad out of the fridge, so I was a bit distracted, and the drawer where we keep the meats suddenly stuck and then unstuck, the result being that it tried to bite my hand off as I wrestled it closed!

At 6:30 I came downstairs to make dinner.  Clam Chowder.  I had just finished cleaning performing a disaster area relief op scuba diving in a sea of dirty socks and random stuffed animals cleaning in the girls room and had forgotten that the kitchen had some sort of score to settle with me.  I don't understand.  I gave it a thorough cleaning before I left for Florida.  Did it not appreciate having it's counter tops cleared of papers and junk and given a good bathing in 409?  Did it not like the way it's microwave and stovetop shined?

As I was reaching for a 1/4 cupful of flour to make my roux, it finally inflicted some damage.  Gran had made biscuits in her small convection oven that sits in the corner beside the stovetop and under the cabinet with the spices in it.  Jeremy was reaching in the next cabinet to the left, above my head to get some bowls for his task of table setting.

Not wanting to be in his way, I moved over a bit.  But a bit seems to have been too much.  My arm made contact with the very HOT metal outside of the convection oven.

At first my pain sensors didn't understand.  My brain was telling my arm.  "Hey, arm, move; this is hot." Arm: "Wait, what?" Brain: "HEY. Move! This is HOT! MOVE YOUR ARM BEFORE IT GETS A HOLE BURNED IN IT!" Arm: "Holy crap! This is HOT! OWWW!!"

All of this was happening while the butter had melted to the point of sticking to the pan, the flour was needing to be stirred in and the whole mess was getting all lumpy and hard to work with.  But I wasn't going down without a fight!  I asked Gran to stir the roux to keep it from burning and I ran to the sink (the only part of the kitchen that likes me, apparently...) to run cold water over my now burning and tingling arm.

Because I'm a SuperMom, I managed to still finish the dinner preparations and get us to the table.  (The clam chowder was fantastic, by the way, and there were no left-overs.) I tried to get some ice for my still-stinging arm and the freezer door, due to being warped, resisted any one handed pulling as long as it could until finally giving way and nearly smacking me in the forehead.  The ice wouldn't stay in the little baggie and some slipped out of my fingers to the floor (no doubt a plot by the kitchen to make me slip and fall.....).  I finally called Jeremy to please come pick up the ice and clean up the dinner mess so I could go find some aloe.

I'm leaving the kitchen alone until I'm sure it's not mad at me anymore!!! ;)

It doesn't look that bad now.  The swelling and redness has gone down a lot.  But it still stings like all get out.

Don't be fooled by the cozy, welcoming milk and cookies on the table.  Those were my hard earned spoils after being jabbed, chomped and seared by this kitchen!