Thursday, March 15, 2012

Mishaps - St. Avacado Day

So there I was all excited, bipping around my suppertime kitchen, whipping up a great salad feeling all kinda Bobby Flay.  I grabbed some lettuce, asiago cheese, banana peppers and the  half an avacado I had left from the day before. I thought of how Bobby and some of the other Food Network stars like to show off  their skills with a nice sharp machete-sized knife, whacking that avacado pit right outta the middle. A ‘whack” a smile, a twist and that pit is toast – ready for the old garbage can. Simple.

Except – my avacado had begun to go a little black around the edges with tinges of slime here and there. Hmmm. Well, how hard can it be I asked my silly self. So I take my nowhere near machete-sized paring knife- the one I’ve had for ten years with the broken tip – and attempt a Bobby.

Okay, you know that little cute little winged cherub who’s supposed to have your back especially when you're about to do something really, really stupid? Well, I think the little trollop was out on the patio having a green beer with her favorite Leprechaun just then. Because no warning came! as I raised that knife and sent it flying with full force . . . past the pit and right into the tender flesh between the first two fingers on my left hand. Gaaaahhh! I was flayed!

Now how many times do you think you need to call yourself a Dumb A** before the bleeding stops? Hundreds, my friend, hundreds.

Bleep – bleep – bleep and bleed. I peeked at the carnage with one eye. Pulled away with visions of hacked and bloody chicken joints dancing in my head. Along with the thought that I probably only had those cheap little Snoopy band aids from the Dollar General in the bathroom.

Then I heard the hiccup out on the patio. Grrrr – Leprechauns!

The upshot is – I had hubby staunch the flow with a gauze pad and some white adhesive tape we found – Yay!- and then went out to speak with Cherub.

“I love avacados,” I said to her sloppy, grinning face. “And you let me down! You should have warned me. It’s not the avacado’s fault!”

Then I turned to the Leprechaun. “As for you my green friend – no more St. Patty’s around here. I’m starting a new saint's day, St. Avacado Day! Now Out! “

I felt better after that. I was going to take a picture of my flayed finger, just so you wouldn’t think I made this all up, but I thought it might make you toss your own green beer. The kind made from avacados.  It’s really good.

Happy St. Avacado Day!

Image: My new paring knife

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