Welcome to my weekly review of This Is Us. Today: Season 2, Episode 14, Super Bowl Sunday. (The reviews will include spoilers, so don’t read if you haven’t watched and don’t want to know what happens!) My reviews are based on a single viewing. If I were to watch several times, as I can obsess over my favorite shows (I’m looking at you, True Detective, Season 1), I might be even more insightful (or over-Randall-ing it all). But I’d rather write my initial impressions than take time dissecting after many views. So…. Continue reading “This Is Us: Super Bowl Sunday”
I didn’t see it coming.
I didn’t think it could happen.
I’ve been on the planet long enough to have learned this lesson by now.
In the kitchen, I danced around the island, arranging Tostitos Scoops(tm) on a plate, then filling them with a Mexican four-cheese mix. The cookie sheet heating in the oven was to make them extra crunchy on the bottom (an experiment). Mom’s dog came prancing in as he’s wont to do when I’m near the island. He knows that’s where the magic happens. I stand there and teeny pieces of shredded chicken or cheese sometimes accidentally drop onto the floor just under his nose. Just a taste.
He seemed especially excited about what I was making. I deduced it was because, as a Chihuahua, he favored Mexican-inspired dishes. I started singing ~ it’s our thing.
“Little puppy, here for cheese. You would cross your paws, say please.
‘Drop some cheese onto the floor and I won’t beg for any more.'”
(I make up lil’ songs for the boy. He wags his tail and barks, i.e., sings along)
Humming whatever tune I put those words to, I put an oven mitt on and pulled the now-hot cookie sheet out. It sat on top of the stove as I created verse 2 of my new doggie song. I thought about bringing the cheese-filled Tostitos over to the stove a couple at a time. It might be quicker if I held it, I thought, then did the unthinkable ~ swung around from the island to the stove and reached for the cookie sheet with my bare left hand.
Thumb, index finger ~ full grab. Middle finger, just starting to grip when 3… 2…. 1…
I dropped it immediately (twas only lifted a bit ~ hadn’t a full hold of it) and ran to to sink. The dog looked at me, wondering why his song stopped. So I made up a new one, while cool water ran over the forming blisters.
“Doggie, I have burned my hand. I know you do not understand.
You just want more cheese and chips. My fingers, they hurt like a bitch…”
An hour later, with pruned multi-crimson-shaded thumb and finger, I turned off the faucet and dried my hands gently. The mere idea of air made the skin tingle as if a flame was trying to break free from the inside out. A white bumpy blister formed quickly on my index finger as I wrapped it loosely in gauze. The thumb, extremely red, seemed to have escaped such serious injury. Still, I wrapped it, too.
“That’s a pain that will tend to linger.” Ed Grimley, clutching his burning fingers after removing a batch of cookies from the oven without using a mitt
The pain did linger, for a few hours, until the Advil kicked in. The gauze/Hello Kitty combo did a great job keeping the enemy ~ air ~ at a distance.
A couple days later, both fingers are a wee bit sensitive still, but the blister’s just about gone. The Tostitos were delicious ~ filled with cheese and topped with homemade pico de gallo. I ate them while holding my left hand awkwardly upward to stop the throbbing blood flow. I wasn’t letting something that good go to waste for a blistery burn and a wee bit of pain. I ate my way through the pain. Twas delicious.
What I’ve learned:
- (again) the human body is an amazing healing machine
- finger injuries hurt like a *&@#$!
- And being on the planet for several decades is not long enough to avoid doing something stupid.
They have all kinds of treatments for burns and finger injuries.
Unfortunately, as of yet, for idiocy, there is no cure.