When it rains, it pours... worcestershire sauce

Lesson 1 learned: fiber bars and apple sauce are a deadly. Do not eat them in combination unless you mean business. And yes, I mean that sort of "business".

Lesson 2 learned: Worcestershire sauce stains everything. And I mean everything.

Lesson 3 learned: Do not attempt to cook 3 new recipes all on the same night

Lesson 4 learned: do not wear socks on tile floor after polishing with 409 cleanser and a Swiffer Wet jet, unless you like possible broken bones and have good health insurance. Yeah, go ahead and live on the edge.

Lesson 5 learned: When making homemade friend rice, crack the egg and cook it in the pan completely BEFORE YOU ADD RICE. I'm just sayin'!

The following is a true story because not even I could make this shit up.

This might be TMI and I don't usually talk bathroom but it's a vital part of this story. A few days ago I had not been able to "use the bathroom" other than to pee, for about 3 days so I ate a Fiber One bar. And didn't seem to get any results so about 3 hours later I had applesauce. Just remember that part. Sorry for the "bathroom TMI."

Later that evening, I decide to fix dinner. I want to make a low calorie BBQ sauce and I wanted to try my hand at a low calorie fried rice. And since Daddy-O is doing the shake diet as well, I thought I would experiment with the shake powder since he was a little tired of shakes so I decided to make mashed sweet potatoes using the shake powder as a base and then integrate some other stuff to make it also low calorie. All three new things on one night for the same meal. What the hell was I thinking?

So I'm cooking along; I have a pan on every burner, the oven going, the microwave... and I'm not really following a recipe, just tossing in a bit of this and that, here and there. And as I go to put away the Worcestershire sauce I miss the shelf and the bottle plummets to the kitchen floor. Where it does not break even though it's glass. No, instead, it bounces, jarring the cap off the top and then rolls about 6 feet across the floor, creating a 6 foot long swath of Worcestershire sauce path.

I finally grab the renegade bottle and survey the white linoleum floor and panic. I grab all the dishrags and throw them on the floor and start sopping. I turn the facet on and sop and rinse. It smells something awful. And then I try and sop and clean and finally give up and scream, "dAAAAAAAAAA-AAAAAAAAd come stir shit!" Dad comes in the kitchen and takes one look at the floor and doesn't say a word. He just stirs stuff.

I continue sopping and rinsing when I suddenly have to use the bathroom. The apple sauce and Fiber Bar decide to do their jobs. I take a 10 minute time out to facilitate myself in the facilities. I return to the kitchen and finish cleaning. I finally get it all off the floor which is now sticky- a is the cabinet, the inside of a cabinet door and the side of the fridge. I start wiping the floor, as well as the other surfaces, with 409 and a clean rag.

Finally I can take back over the cooking but I can't get the smell out of my nose. It just FEELS like the Worcestershire sauce is still there, when it's obviously not. Daddy-O and I are dishing stuff up, putting dishes in the sink, filling glasses, when I slip on the floor and about fall flat on my face. Thankfully, I didn't and neither did the carton of eggs I was holding. (Cause of death would've been suicide by cooking disaster)

Finally, finally, finally, after one more trip to the damn bathroom, we sit down to eat. And the fried rice is terrible. It was one of those things that the first bite was unsure, the second bite was okay and then suddenly the third bite was the real thing which caused much gagging and hacking out of the ickiness of it all. I find out later that I was supposed to cook the egg completely before adding my veggie rice mixture. I want to point out right now that the recipe I had glanced at online earlier that day didn't say to do that. I'm pretty sure it didn't, anyway.

Mashed sweet potato was pretty good and the BBQ sauce was STRAIGHT ON! But the smell of Worcestershire wouldn't go away, and even Daddy-O could smell it. I finally relaxed and crossed my legs to notice dried rivets of brown, streaked up and down my shins and calves of my lily white Irish skin! It was the reverse Michael Jackson!!! Ack!

No wonder we kept smelling it. During the splash down and clean up, it apparently splashed ON me. And this stuff stains, people! I'm not kidding! That sentence could be written "this stuff stains people" because it does. I washed my legs with hot soapy water and scrubbed until I was a pinkish, brown streaked pale white, then I rubbed my legs with lotion. I smelled like Japanese Cherry Blossom but not the way that Bath and Body works intended!

Lessons learned. Crickets, take my wisdom and don't try to learn these on your own. You've been warned.

She who is back to plain pale legs now,
Mags