The Dangerous Kitchen

Published on Tuesday, September 1, 2009 by Katherine

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My kitchen is dangerous.  That’s what my mom says.  You open the cabinet and things fall out on you.  You open the drawers and knives shoot out at you.  Indiana Jones would have a hard time getting from the door to the table in my kitchen.

If I lived by myself, my cabinets and drawers would be neat.  Everything would be in order.  But I would rather have a houseful of kids and a dangerous kitchen.

Even more dangerous?  ME in the kitchen.  I’ve bled on about every vegetable you can name.  Despite the fact that both words start with the letter “K,” knives and Katherine don’t mix.  Get me talking while I’m slicing and WHAM!  Blood on the vegetables.

My latest kitchen accident?  This weekend I was cooking pasta in my super cool pasta cooking and draining pot.  Cook the pasta, make sure the lid is locked and pour all the hot water out… voila!  Instant pasta!

Except I have a different method.  Make sure the lid is locked, walk the boiling pot of water to the sink, pour and watch the UNLOCKED LID fly off of the pot.  Allow boiling hot water to splash into the sink and then repel back onto your body.  Burn your hands and your stomach.  Say ouch.  Say OUCH.  Get some ice.  Get the aloe plant.  Whimper.  Serve the pasta.  Eat.  Whimper.  Notice that no one cares that you have just scalded your stomach and hands with boiling hot water.  No respect for the chef.  Glad I don’t cook naked.

Today I have a burn on my stomach in the exact shape of the Star Trek emblem found on Captain Kirk’s shirt.  I would take a picture but hey, it’s on my stomach!  No one understands why I keep asking people to beam me up.  I don’t explain, because they didn’t care that I burned myself in the first place.  Pooey on them.