Holidays
sparks158
Published
12/17/2010
It's the holiday season, and I've got things to do. I've got people to shop for still, gifts to wrap, desserts and food to make. I'm just gonna be straightforward: I'm stressed.
So I come home one day to find that my large, 80 pound black lab has some kind of cut on the tip of his tail. How did I find out? Well, when he wags his tail, he flings blood everywhere. And I mean everywhere. On damn near every surface in my house there's some kind of red smear. Hell, it looks like a three year old with a paintbrush went wild in my hallway. So I bandage a dogs tail the best you can, and clean up all the blood with paper towels. No biggie yet.
The next day, I'm starting to get my Christmas tree up. Yea, how sweet; Sparks and his pretty little Christmas tree. Remember bubble lights? It's a light/ornament, basically a thin glass tube filled with some kind of colored liquid. The tube is attached to a light, which heats it and makes it bubble. Precious. Or rather, precious until one exploded on me while I'm attaching it. And of course, I was wearing a tan sweater. And of course, it's red. And of course, whatever this liquid is has the consistency of motor oil, and there's no way I can salvage the sweater. Great. Things really just keep going well for me.
And later that day, I'm starting to get my baking finished. Yea, Sparks bakes cookies for his family and shit in December. Again, how precious. Yea, yea. I've got my ten or so standard recipes I make every year, but this time, I tried to do something different: Toffee. So I mix all the shit, throw it in the oven. Nothing exciting, nothing unusual. About an hour later, I pull out the pan, and the toffee is stuck in there. As in, I'd have an easier time getting cement out of this damn pan. So what do I do? I take a big knife and start stabbing at the fucker. Course, (those of you who've tried to cut cement with a kitchen knife know what I mean) it didn't work. The tip of the knife is bent to hell.
I end up throwing it out with the stained sweater and the bloody paper towels.
I hope my garbage man doesn't see it.
So I come home one day to find that my large, 80 pound black lab has some kind of cut on the tip of his tail. How did I find out? Well, when he wags his tail, he flings blood everywhere. And I mean everywhere. On damn near every surface in my house there's some kind of red smear. Hell, it looks like a three year old with a paintbrush went wild in my hallway. So I bandage a dogs tail the best you can, and clean up all the blood with paper towels. No biggie yet.
The next day, I'm starting to get my Christmas tree up. Yea, how sweet; Sparks and his pretty little Christmas tree. Remember bubble lights? It's a light/ornament, basically a thin glass tube filled with some kind of colored liquid. The tube is attached to a light, which heats it and makes it bubble. Precious. Or rather, precious until one exploded on me while I'm attaching it. And of course, I was wearing a tan sweater. And of course, it's red. And of course, whatever this liquid is has the consistency of motor oil, and there's no way I can salvage the sweater. Great. Things really just keep going well for me.
And later that day, I'm starting to get my baking finished. Yea, Sparks bakes cookies for his family and shit in December. Again, how precious. Yea, yea. I've got my ten or so standard recipes I make every year, but this time, I tried to do something different: Toffee. So I mix all the shit, throw it in the oven. Nothing exciting, nothing unusual. About an hour later, I pull out the pan, and the toffee is stuck in there. As in, I'd have an easier time getting cement out of this damn pan. So what do I do? I take a big knife and start stabbing at the fucker. Course, (those of you who've tried to cut cement with a kitchen knife know what I mean) it didn't work. The tip of the knife is bent to hell.
I end up throwing it out with the stained sweater and the bloody paper towels.
I hope my garbage man doesn't see it.
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