Generator-ator

Here’s a riddle for you.  What does a generator, diet coke, cast iron skillets and electrical wires have in common.  It’s not what you think.  Let me tell you.

Another big ole huge leap recently has been a new generator!  Wha wha!  Yea, it kinda feels like winning the lottery.  Or at least what I imagine it would feel like with a whole world of options opening up.  Food options that is. 

Baked food yall!

Now we haven’t had much luck with generators.  This one is new.  Which means it comes with a beautiful thing called a warrantee.  2 years actually.  If anything breaks, Bam baby!  New one.  Just like. That.  It’s like a powered vacay for the Mr not having to fix another one for a while.

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Of course we couldn’t wait to get back into this baking business. It was decided pre -purchase the first baked breakfast the children wanted was puff pancakes.  Happy to oblige! That night Mr and Bou get it all set up and run it a few minutes to test it out.

I have to interject here with a side story.  During this time frame I am at Walmart filling our water bottles.  And notice diet coke on sale.  I’m an addict so I go to grab a couple of 2 liters.  Only there is a tray of coke zero on top of the diet coke.  That I have to move. 

Everything was going fine… until it wasnt.  Something slipped as I was moving the tray to another stack and Bam – my 3 fingers were caught in between two full trays of 2 liters.  I quickly pulled them out and inspected the damage.  Seeing everything still intact, I (sans buggy) quickly walked to the closest freezer.  Which happened to be frozen pizzas. 

I must say, there is only so long you can linger with your hand in between pizzas, with no buggy, pretending to decide on which one when there are only 4 choices, before people look at you strange.  But I couldn’t move away from the freezer, my whole hand was throbbing!  I was batting away tears!  I stood debating if I could make it to the frozen veggie section.  Veggies would make a better ice pack and it would move me from this exposed location. And decided no, the dizzying pain wave must pass first before attempting a walk like that.

After what seemed like forever, the two middle fingers stopped pulsing and I went back to filling waters one handed.  The tip of my index finger I was sure was broken.  Turns out that was probably true.

Back to the other story…

The next morning the children danced like it was Christmas they were so excited.  I finally opened up the huge box that contained the brand new toaster oven we actually did receive for Christmas.  After setting it all up and admiring how beautiful and huge it was – two racks yall! – we got down to business mixing up the batter.

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Ahh puff pancakes.  Or Dutch babies.  Or something else I can’t think of.  Pancakes cooked in an oven, in cast iron skillets that puff into a huge golden brown buttery yummyness.  Once removed from the oven they collapse a little while you are dusting on the powdered sugar or smothering with cinnamon apple slices or whatever other yum toppings. 

That’s the point that changed our week.

As I was removing the heavy cast iron skillet with a too small pot holder and a broken finger on one hand, the pot holder slipped. And resulted in this beauty:

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After I got passed the adrenaline rush and then the fainting rush that always follows severe pain, I was able to look at it somewhat objectively.   It was a nice mark but at least I still had skin!  Whew, we can take care of this at home, it’s on the side so shouldn’t interfere much, it’s all good.

It was only later that I realized just how often you use the side palm when I learned I had to keep my hand in this position to not pull on the blistered area to much:

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Go ahead, close your hand like that and try to do something.  Like pick up a baby, pour water, open a can or you know, use a drill. 

And that, lady’s and gents, is how I got out of running the electrical wires upstairs this week.

P.S.  At least my thumbs were not affected!  I can still text/type!
 

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