trash smashing
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Memorial Day weekend is good for three things. 1. remembering the ultimate sacrifice of those who gave their life while serving our country. 2. enjoying time together with family and friends. 3. finding obscure reasons to hang out in the ER. We buried the needle on the temperature gage on the grill on the back porch. It was a record for us. Exceeding 680 degrees because of the fat-fire from the steaks dripping fat into the bottom of the grill. The flames were sassy. The steak was awesome. And it required a tasty dessert to go with it ... Flannery's Delight is a wonderful concoction of chocolate pudding, cherry pie filling, whipped cream, crumbled Oreo's and yesterday, the new addition of chunks of brownies - all layered in a clear dessert bowl (the kind with the fancy stem on the bottom). The problem is this ... Cherry pie filling comes in a can. And cans have sharp lids when they're cut off and laying in the trash can. When you're entertaining, it's easy to fill up trash can in the kitchen. And for nearly seventeen years, it has been our space-saving habit to "smash" the trash into the can when it gets too full (making more room for more trash and thus delaying the inevitable trip to the dumpster in the garage for a little while longer.) |
| Yesterday evening, I smashed the trash. Just like we always do. And as I smashed the trash... I smashed my index and middle finger across the cherry-pie filling can lid camouflaged in the trash. I've had many cuts over the years. And somehow, someway, I just "know". I "know" when a cut is actually one of those cuts. The kind of cut that require more than a few curse words and a trip to the kitchen sink. This injury was one of those. Three hours and three stitches later my index finger throbs in sync with my heart beat. The habitual trash-smashing needs to be re-thought. The worst part of the entire night was .... I didn't even get one bite of Flannery's Delight. | |
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