What was I thinking?
Keep in mind that we are in the midst of a heatwave... it's 90 degrees on the porch and it's almost 9pm. Remember this? It's worse!
Mr. Daddy was out of town for work and I'd felt spectacularly unproductive. You know how lethargic you can get when you're melting? Yeah...
So in a last ditch attempt to prove that I'd done something other than sweat off 11 pounds, I embraced spontaneity and dove headlong into the cupboards.
And ladies, you know what I'm talking about here... it's like a step back into another era.
Where you suddenly realize that logo on your cake mixes is now considered the "Classic" Betty Crocker design.
And that Orville Redenbacher's signature on that popcorn label was probably original.
And that the pure vanilla extract is probably considered an alcoholic beverage by now.
And anytime you see the year 2006 anywhere on the box is not a good sign.
Did you know that jello mix expires? I mean, seriously?!?
The lovely Ghiradelli chocolate chips had melted into one solid brown blob... lovely. I'm telling ya - even the coconut flakes were sweatin'.
I also realized that my hubs is a complete doofus every time he claims we've run out of raspberry jam. Dear, there are SIX jars of raspberry jam in the pantry... all yours.
I was relentless. I was ruthless. I took no prisoners.
If the "best by" date was past, it went bye-bye without question.
Even the (sob) ice cream.
See, whenever we have company over, we grab a couple kinds of frozen deliciousness. Serve a couple scoops, then stick them in the freezer and promptly forget about them.
So, in my industriousness and devotion to my recycle regimen - I decided to let all 14 of them thaw out in the sink for awhile.
This led to a spectacular new flavor of drain clog: cherry chocolate chip fudge toffee rocky road mint strawberry coffee pistachio. It was a marvelous foamy mess.
After an hour of hot water doing the trick, I spotted another wayward ingredient.
Behold... the Jet-Puffed:
It was this jumbo-sized awkward unstackable thing - that was guilty of expiring in April. Only... it was in a glass jar. Remember the whole devotion to recyling thing?
Yeah, it bit me bigtime.
So I get the hot water going and let it run into the shiny little twirl at the top of the jar.
It doesn't even make an indentation.
Time for the big guns. I stick my fingers in and the stuff is like Play-doh and honey mixed together. Still can't get it out of the blasted jar.
In a fit of brilliance, I shove my entire hand in, barely displacing the thick goo, and attempt to scoop it out.
Uh yeah... except that the stuff fills my hand and freezes it in a scoop position to the point that, yes my friends, I was the proverbial monkey trapped by a jar.
I stood there (still melting, mind you) trying to spray hot water into the jar around my hand to free it. Yes, my entire house smells like slightly burnt sugar and paraffin. My hands are softer than ever. And that's the second drain clog of the night.
Who on earth gets themselves into these kinds of predicaments? No worries, I'll be that friend for you.