Like Hayley Mills or Lindsay Lohan in The Parent Trap. Like a portly passenger required by Southwest Airlines to purchase two seats. Like an astral projector looking over his shoulder before he zooms off to more exotic locales.
I am beside myself. Okay. Figuratively, not literally, like my examples. A mishap of extreme magnitude occurred this afternoon in my kitchen. I shudder to recall the horrific incident. The bottom drops out of my stomach just to think of it. I've tried to block it out all day.
There I was, standing at the kitchen counter, preparing my lunch. Hick and the boys were not present for the cursed event. I had been to town for my daily eighty-cent 44 oz. Diet Coke refill. A meal of sharp cheddar and club crackers sounded like a tasty complement for my precious elixir. Having cut the cheese yesterday, I only needed to put my provisions on a paper plate. So simple, really.
I laid out the cheddar slices. I added the requisite number of crackers. And it happened. As I tried to shove the plastic cracker bag back into its box, the giant chip clip I had applied to preserve freshness caught on the box flap. The cracker box jerked out of control like a recalcitrant preschooler reclaiming his arm after a parental intervention for a roadway dash. It struck my 44 oz. cup, toppling it over like a giant redwood felled by insouciant loggers who don't believe in hugs.
Oh, the caffeinity! I now know the sorrow of those who cry over spilled milk. The lid remained on my blue-and-white patterned foam cup. But the precious beverage leaked out the lid and straw-hole. I snatched it upright faster than a teenage boy grabbing the last slice of pizza out of the box at a classroom reward party. But the damage had been done. Lake Cola was rapidly expanding its banks. Cell Phone Island was barely keeping its face above lake level. But I was not concerned with Cell Phone Island. Part of Lake Cola was trapped in Paper Plate Reservoir!
After righting my cup at ten times the speed of one of those freaky kid cup-stackers, I threw caution to the wind, and removed the lid. I hoisted Paper Plate Reservoir with the steadiness of a bomb squad technician and the balance of a Flying Wallenda. I poured the contents back into the cup. Cell Phone Island was wrenched free from the confines of terra firma proper, and drained of its shallow sea. Back into the cup, of course. I contemplated squeegeeing the countertop inundation over the edge and into the cup as well. But the thought of errant foodstuff flotsam deterred me. I wiped the burgundy countertop of its amber stain. Placed Cell Phone Island on an oven mitt to dry out.
And proceeded to spend the afternoon with the remains of my very special thirst-quencher. Which had become, much to my chagrin, a 42 oz. Diet Coke.
11 comments:
I thought I heard over the radio that the Coast Guard had been called in...some matter of life or death. Now I know...
You done good. Exactly what my sister would have done had it been her diet rite.
Repeat after me.
My name is Val and I am a cokoholic.
Nooooooooo.
One time I bought a chocolate ice cream cone and as soon as I sat down, the top scoop hit the floor. I picked it up and left some on the floor that was the germy part. But I wasn't about to waste precious chocolate ice cream.
I applaud your fast moves in the face of crisis. More could have been lost.
A tragedy of epic proportions. A deluge of soda.
Nice catch! Great save! Too bad you didn't have witnesses or video to proclaim your prowess--alas. It is so amazing the things we do when we're alone in our kitchen.
Sioux,
Yes. It was NOT a false alarm. My apologies to that family left clinging to Coleman coolers five miles off the coast. I hope their wait enabled them to enjoy swimming with the sea creatures. It's good therapy, I hear.
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Joanne,
And people call me crazy! It's folks who would waste two perfectly salvageable sips of Diet Coke who are crazy.
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Mrs.
Is this some kind of trick? Is Candy Finnegan waiting in the laundry room? I'm not takin' that bait. I'm not as oblivious as those meth-sniffers. I know when I'm being set up for an intervention. Now where are the cameras?
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Chick,
Congratulations on harvesting the floor food. My granola-bar-eating son would be proud. Especially if it was off the garage floor, where the cats live.
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Stephen,
It was a regular tsunami of tsoda.
Leenie,
Yes, too bad. Because I could have been famous on YouTube! Or in the very least, won the Nobel Prize for Soda Salvage.
Leenie,
Yes, too bad. Because I could have been famous on YouTube! Or in the very least, won the Nobel Prize for Soda Salvage.
I shared your story with he who shares your addiction to Diet Coke. He totes his around in a bubba mug ...... everywhere he goes. He applauds your save!
Kathy,
If I had that bubba mug, the tragedy might have been avoided. However, having seen a picture of HeWho's bubba mug, I think I'll take my chances with my many-times-refilled blue-and-white foam cup.
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