SCORE!
Pillsbury crescent dough was on sale and I had a coupon as well.
DOUBLE SCORE!
As a non-career minded woman who just happens to work full time, Pillsbury crescent dough comes in handy for those times when I need to fix something quick and easy. My mouth was watering over the prospect of baked brie, wienie wraps or maybe an appetizer pizza. I couldn't just take a handful. I had to get a dozen. I mean, I figured you can't have enough... and they stay good for awhile, right? Not really.
It wasn't until I got home that I noticed the expiration date. There was a very good reason why they were marked down. I already get in trouble for things lingering in my refrigerator long after their due date has passed. I live with the expiration date inspector. It's nothing to hear my son holler from behind the open door of the refrigerator, "Mom, this ketchup expired two days ago." He's a kid. 2 days = 2 days. I'm an adult. 2 days = 2 months. My typical argument that expiration dates are for the store really doesn't fly with him. Doesn't fly with me either--but that's the excuse I use to save a bit of face.
OK, so I bought a dozen tubes of crescent dough that I really didn't want to expire in my fridge. In a moment of sheer genius, I decided that I could stick them in the freezer for later use. Now, I was told to never keep food that you want to preserve in the freezer inside the door--place it deep into freezer until fully froze. Carefully, I rearranged the items around my freezer to accommodate a dozen tubes of crescent dough. I managed to fit all of them where my ice trays used to sit. I figured it would be a grand time to soak the ice trays in a bit of vinegar anyway. (Note: I had no baking soda in my sink....) 2 birds, 1 stone--or so I thought.
I've said this a thousand times--but there are warnings on packages for a reason. The packaging on the tube clearly said, "DO NOT FREEZE". I just happened not to read it. I mean, seriously... the mascot is a dough boy, what harm can a tube of crescent dough do? Evidently, I have not watched the movie "Ghostbusters" nearly enough.
It wasn't long into the freezing process that I was standing next to the fridge, pouring myself a cup of coffee when I heard a muffled explosion. Startled me so bad, I nearly dropped my cup of coffee. For the life of me, I couldn't tell where it came from or what it was. After a spell, I went about my business. Then came another explosion... then another... then another... then another. When it finally dawned on me what had just transpired in my freezer, I about gave birth to kittens.
The tubes exploded open. All of them.
My son saw what transpired--threw an incredulous look at me and shook his head pitifully. "Mom, your own your own..."
It's not just chutney I'm taking for Thanksgiving. I'll have the corner market on stale crescent rolls come Thursday.
Showing posts with label Oops. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Oops. Show all posts
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
Sunday, November 21, 2010
One way to clean a kitchen sink....
….and so the other day, I arrived home to be greeted by a really foul odor. Being a nurse, I’m accustomed to almost every noxious odor known—and it bothers me none. Usually. This stench, however, knocked me completely over. It was as if every inhabitant of hell released their collective bowels of hell inside my apartment… and I yakked.
Finding the source of the stink was not difficult.
It’s been almost a year since my garbage disposal chewed a spoon. It’s not been the same since. My attempt at getting it fixed has been futile. See, if it makes noise—my landlord thinks it works. Yes, it makes noise, but it also registers on seismometers. No USGS, St. Helens is not waking up, that’s just me using my garbage disposal. I’m not kidding. The disposal shakes the counters to the point where glasses will dance off and land on the floor.
Since then, the sink occasionally takes on whatever stink until it’s cleared of all the gunk.
This particular day, I just finished off a long 12-hour shift and I was tired. I had yet another 12 hour shift that night. The last thing I needed to be doing was clearing the pipes. So, I dumped a couple of boxes of baking soda down the sink and went to bed—with the intent of dealing with the issue when I woke up.
Immediately, the sink no longer stunk…
Now, if anyone knows me well… I simply do not do much in the way if housework when I am in the middle of shift work. After a couple of days, there are always dishes in the sink waiting to be hand washed.
In my bleary state, I did not notice that I knocked over an open bottle of dish soap into the sink. It precariously landed, nozzle side into the drain and bottom end wedged between two coffee cups. Practically full, I lost a good ¾ of the bottle down the drain as it leaked out. I only noticed when I woke up.
Upset to have wasted so much of a cleaning product, I completely forgot about the baking soda down the sink and proceeded to fix dinner. I completely perseverated on the fact that I nearly lost all of a bottle of dish soap. I was out of sorts.
Do you know there is such a thing as putting too much baking soda down a sink? Evidently, I didn’t but I do now. Yeah, and with a bottle of soap down a sink, the stuff just doesn’t flush out easily.
Oh well, I thought, it’ll eventually dissolve and flush out. So I ate dinner. Leftovers and whatever is easy to fix. I don’t rightly remember what I ate except for one thing: marinated cucumbers. Let me extrapolate. Cucumbers marinated (read bathed) in undiluted apple cider vinegar. Just so you know, I have no problem dumping a quart or two of vinegar over cucumbers… but I get all testy about dish soap. To boot, marinated cucumbers taste much better than dish soap. Oh, such irony.
Between the kid and myself, we polished off all the cucumbers.
OK, not wanting my house to linger of the smell of vinegar from dinner, I thought it would be wise to dump the waste down the sink.
Oh, yes I did.
The end result was not pretty.
My drain belched forth suds.
Unlike that third grade science experiment where students learn about lava flows from volcanoes, this was more like grown-ups learning what it means when their kitchen sink has rabies.
Naturally, I did what came naturally. I screamed. This alerted my son, who came running to see what the commotion was about. Upon seeing the sink, filling and overflowing with suds, he stood looking at the sink, mouth agape.
Seriously? Only you ma.
So, the kid decided to be helpful and flipped on the garbage disposal. One might thing that would be a logical thing to do—that is, if only the stupid thing worked which it didn’t. It sucked nothing down. No, everything went in reverse. Suds shot out, spraying both the kid and myself with suds that smelled like pickled lavender with a hint of putrefaction.
This all happened 5 minutes before I had to leave for work. No time to bath myself, let alone clean a kitchen.
I felt oddly self-conscious at work, smelling like rotten pickled flowers and all. Fortunately, strange odors aren’t uncommon for the unit I work on and if I smelled funky, it was largely ignored.
I fully expected to come home from work to find the world’s biggest mess in my kitchen—awaiting my attention. Instead, I came home from work to find my kitchen the cleanest it’s been in months. The kid spent hours cleaning up the mess.
My kitchen drain has not stank since.
Finding the source of the stink was not difficult.
It’s been almost a year since my garbage disposal chewed a spoon. It’s not been the same since. My attempt at getting it fixed has been futile. See, if it makes noise—my landlord thinks it works. Yes, it makes noise, but it also registers on seismometers. No USGS, St. Helens is not waking up, that’s just me using my garbage disposal. I’m not kidding. The disposal shakes the counters to the point where glasses will dance off and land on the floor.
Since then, the sink occasionally takes on whatever stink until it’s cleared of all the gunk.
This particular day, I just finished off a long 12-hour shift and I was tired. I had yet another 12 hour shift that night. The last thing I needed to be doing was clearing the pipes. So, I dumped a couple of boxes of baking soda down the sink and went to bed—with the intent of dealing with the issue when I woke up.
Immediately, the sink no longer stunk…
Now, if anyone knows me well… I simply do not do much in the way if housework when I am in the middle of shift work. After a couple of days, there are always dishes in the sink waiting to be hand washed.
In my bleary state, I did not notice that I knocked over an open bottle of dish soap into the sink. It precariously landed, nozzle side into the drain and bottom end wedged between two coffee cups. Practically full, I lost a good ¾ of the bottle down the drain as it leaked out. I only noticed when I woke up.
Upset to have wasted so much of a cleaning product, I completely forgot about the baking soda down the sink and proceeded to fix dinner. I completely perseverated on the fact that I nearly lost all of a bottle of dish soap. I was out of sorts.
Do you know there is such a thing as putting too much baking soda down a sink? Evidently, I didn’t but I do now. Yeah, and with a bottle of soap down a sink, the stuff just doesn’t flush out easily.
Oh well, I thought, it’ll eventually dissolve and flush out. So I ate dinner. Leftovers and whatever is easy to fix. I don’t rightly remember what I ate except for one thing: marinated cucumbers. Let me extrapolate. Cucumbers marinated (read bathed) in undiluted apple cider vinegar. Just so you know, I have no problem dumping a quart or two of vinegar over cucumbers… but I get all testy about dish soap. To boot, marinated cucumbers taste much better than dish soap. Oh, such irony.
Between the kid and myself, we polished off all the cucumbers.
OK, not wanting my house to linger of the smell of vinegar from dinner, I thought it would be wise to dump the waste down the sink.
Oh, yes I did.
The end result was not pretty.
My drain belched forth suds.
Unlike that third grade science experiment where students learn about lava flows from volcanoes, this was more like grown-ups learning what it means when their kitchen sink has rabies.
Naturally, I did what came naturally. I screamed. This alerted my son, who came running to see what the commotion was about. Upon seeing the sink, filling and overflowing with suds, he stood looking at the sink, mouth agape.
Seriously? Only you ma.
So, the kid decided to be helpful and flipped on the garbage disposal. One might thing that would be a logical thing to do—that is, if only the stupid thing worked which it didn’t. It sucked nothing down. No, everything went in reverse. Suds shot out, spraying both the kid and myself with suds that smelled like pickled lavender with a hint of putrefaction.
This all happened 5 minutes before I had to leave for work. No time to bath myself, let alone clean a kitchen.
I felt oddly self-conscious at work, smelling like rotten pickled flowers and all. Fortunately, strange odors aren’t uncommon for the unit I work on and if I smelled funky, it was largely ignored.
I fully expected to come home from work to find the world’s biggest mess in my kitchen—awaiting my attention. Instead, I came home from work to find my kitchen the cleanest it’s been in months. The kid spent hours cleaning up the mess.
My kitchen drain has not stank since.
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