November 29, 2006

I Really AM Hot Stuff and I Just Proved It!

So. Beth decided to pull a Hotclue and disappear on Thanksgiving day and stick me with cooking the entire dinner. She didn’t tell me this ahead of time, the rat. Just all of a sudden Thanksgiving morning, before any of the dressing and all the rest of the stuff was started she turned and said, “Hots, I’ve made an executive decision.”

What’s that?” I asked, innocently polishing my toenails, trying to decide between the tiger-striped blouse or the red see-through one, thinking about heading off to Barbados with Count Babbalallapaloozo before all the grunt work associated with these interminable holiday dinners began.

“I’m leaving and you’re cooking,” she announced.

I looked up. “Say WHAT?”

“You’re cooking today. Buh bye, toots!” And with that, Beth disappeared into the ether, which I thought only I knew how to do because after all, I perfected it. But zap! Just like that, she was gone and I was stuck.

In her defense, she did leave the mashed sweet potatoes and the two pies she made the previous day. Big of her. There I am, faced with this humongous turkey that I’m supposed to somehow stuff and bake and have ready by two o’clock when our guests were due to arrive. Make that my guests, Beth had already split.

Well, good sport that I am, I decided to give it a go, so I went online to the Food Network to find out what went into stuffing.

First of all, is it dressing or stuffing? Is it only officially stuffing if it’s actually IN the turkey? How does it get there? When I read the directions my jaw dropped and all I could think of was, “Ewwww!”

I actually had to put my hands in that mess and stick it inside of that raw turkey? Double Ewwww!

But Beth wasn’t coming back, so okay, I printed out the recipe. Chop this, simmer that, add some of this, a few of those. It couldn’t be all that bad, except for the touching the inside of the turkey part. (Triple Ewwww!)

Obviously I was going to have to run out to the drug store for some surgical gloves, since there was no way in hell I was touching the clammy insides of that turkey.

The drugstore was closed. I had to touch the turkey.

So okay, I chopped and sliced and diced and simmered and stirred and finally I had a big pan full of what looked like something a college jock would heave after the first big sorority bash of the year. But I took a huge deep breath anyhow and grabbed a handful and shoved it in. There was no way I was going to eat this, you understand, but we had guests coming. They’d never know.

After an hour of cursing it was stuffed although half of it fell out while I struggled to get it into the pan. I scooped it back up and stuffed it back where the sun didn’t shine in THAT bird and shoved the whole mess into the oven, praying the Count would call soon and rescue me.

No call yet, so I read the rest of the recipe.

Baste it every once in a while. Okay, I could handle once in a while.

About an hour later, while I was looking up a recipe for green bean casserole, which had sounded innocent enough until I saw a photo of it, which reminded me of the stuffing, I realized I hadn’t basted the turkey yet.

I opened the oven door and without giving it any serious consideration ahead of time I reached in and pulled the pan out. It was only then I realized I wasn’t using a potholder. Stung like crazy frickin’ hell, and as I stood there looking at my fingertips turning red, white and bluer than Bush’s face when Malacki stiffed him for dinner, it dawned on me what I’d done.

Well, I did what any other normal person would have done. I ran cold water on it until I realized that wasn’t helping at all and in fact, was only making it worse. Curses! I went running for the hall closet, where Beth usually keeps all kinds of weird ointments I’ve never used, but surely, SURELY, she had something for burns.

She didn’t.

I stood in the hallway thinking about it and while I was thinking, decided to at least, if nothing else, put some antibiotic cream on it. I knew that, at least, was in the medicine cabinet. You know, the one you always look in when you’re in someone else’s house?

No burn ointment, but I spotted a tube of some toothache medicine, thought about it a minute, then I figured well, it works on teeth and gums, doesn’t it?

So on the off-chance I squeezed some on my burned fingers and stood watching while the miracle happened.

I’m telling you, I’m so damn brilliant I should be Times Magazine’s Person of the Year, I really should. The burning stopped after about five minutes and it never came back. My fingers never blistered, never hurt again, didn’t turn red at all.

I’ve invented a whole new use for toothache medicine. Am I incredible or what? This is almost as good as the time I invented a great tool for getting leaves out of gutters. Never did anything with that either, but it’s the thought that counts, right?

My fingers are all perfectly well and accounted for, although the truth is, I really burnt hell out of them, you could see it. But you didn’t see it for long. And why not?

Hey, because I did the Hotclue thing, that’s why not. I put toothache medicine on them.

Ta ta for now, my loves. My guests are gone, the dinner was wonderful, I gave them all of the leftovers just to annoy Beth, and I’m off to the Bahamas for the weekend, since it looks like we’re going to get whomped with snow here in Chicago.

Come back again soon, ya hear me? I love y’all, you KNOW I do. And now you know what to do for burned fingers next time you get stuck cooking Thanksgiving dinner. Unorthadox, maybe, but any port in a storm, right?

Hots Herself, still cookin’ as usual! (At least the guys all say I do.) 😉

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Comments

4 Responses | TrackBack URL | Comments Feed

  1. Ha Ha! Welcome to Turkeyland. I’m going to buy some more toothache reliever for my kitchen. Tell me, did you tell her about your newfound cure?

    Reply

  2. Yanno (TM Miss Snark) Yasmine, it went away and I never gabe it another thought until I sat down to write this blog. I guess Beth’ll have to read it here. 😉

    Love, and come back soon,
    Hots

    Reply

  3. Hots, you are a wonder! An ingenius woman with a multitude of talents. Congratulations on suffereing through Thanksgiving like the rest of us commoners and a BIGGER applause on your new discovery. Whoda thought toothache medicine!

    Reply

  4. Only Hotclue Herself, as far as I know. 😉

    Come back again soon, Sloane! I’ll have the wine in the cooler.

    Love,
    Hotclue Herself

    Reply

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