While I was busy destroying three eggs over easy, which became eggs over with difficulty, the pancakes were burning. Then the spatula refused to work properly again.
"S***," I shouted, threw the spatula at the wall, and stormed out of the kitchen.
Dennis appeared shocked, but I felt much better and soon enjoyed a mangled egg and two salvaged pancakes.
The day turned out to be lovely.
P.S. Look at the spatula. It's bigger than the griddle! No wonder I have trouble manipulating it. Who do they make these giant tools for, anyway?
1 comment:
I remember storming out of the kitchen when my dang pie crust refused to co-operate and kept breaking! I see them as our "Uncle Holmes" moments!
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