The life of a runner, mother, radiopharmacist and vicar's wife – that's me!
I got up early this morning, as usual. It was quite a relaxed start to the day though because the kids don’t go back to school until tomorrow so I didn’t have to do any packed lunches. I thought that perhaps I just about had time to quickly do the tea before I went to work. It was really quite simple, a curry made with a jar of sauce and I thought that if my husband didn’t get round to doing it then the chicken would go off and be wasted. So, having fried the chicken I went to the cupboard to get the jar of sauce. It wasn’t there!! There was no sauce. I searched the cupboard because I knew that there had been a jar of curry sauce earlier in the week. Sadly this was to no avail. The sauce was gone.
If it hadn’t been for the fact that I wasn’t going to be at home at tea time, I might just have left the chicken as it was but I thought that my husband would wonder why I’d fried some chicken at 6am and what he was meant to do with it. So, I decided that I really ought to finish the curry – which actually meant starting from scratch. I had been looking at a fairly relaxed start to the day but now I was on a tight schedule as I really needed to leave the house by 6:40. It was a bit like Mastercef where you only have a certain amount of time to cook the meal – except my cooking isn’t really quite up to that standard.
It was all going fine until I got to the unopenable tin. Our tin opener is useless and I also couldn’t even get the ever-faithful but rather basic tin opener for emergency use only to open the stupid tin. I got it about a third to half way open and decided to see if I could bend the open metal top enough to let the contents out. This in itself wasn’t a stupid idea. What was a stupid idea was to do it with my bare hands.
I found that being cut by a half opened tin was significantly more painful, although not entirely dissimilar, from a paper cut. I’m really not very good with blood. I have accidentally stabbed myself with sterile needles on occasion at work and had to have ‘a bit of a sit down’ to recover. But I didn’t have time to sit down, I didn’t have time to faint. I sucked my poor finger as well as I could. I could taste the blood, but at least I couldn’t see it. I knew that as long as I couldn’t see it then I would be OK. I fumbled in the cupboard for the medicine tin. Thankfully we had some hypoallergenic plasters (as together with fainting at the sight of blood, I am highly allergic to normal plasters). I managed to get the plaster on without allowing any blood to leak out of my cut finger and finished opening the tin! A veritable success.
So, having texted my colleague to say I’d be a few minutes late to work, I finished making the curry, ate some breakfast and went to work – all without fainting.
I hope my husband and the kids enjoyed the extra ingredient (part of my finger) with the curry for their tea! At least they didn’t have to pick me up off the kitchen floor though and I was only a few minutes late for work.