Cooking almost killed me!

I'm reflecting on the GREAT ROAST BEEF tragedy of 2006.
What is this, you ask? Well, this could be one of the many reasons why I gave up cooking and look upon cooking in general as painful....hmmm?

I'm reminded of this tragedy because it happened in November and my friend Si spoke of it recently-- she is either psychic or psycho.
I easily forget about unpleasant experiences, hence, I went through child birth 4 times, before I got smart and adopted. But this unpleasant time....is not easily forgotten.

Cue the spooky music and swirly tv screen as we go back in time....to 2006...

I had just returned from a fun filled weekend to NYC with friends ( Farleys and Fowers) and I was trying to be a "Mom" again and have my children love me by cooking a real Sunday dinner. I raced home from church to get my roast beef out of the oven. My house was smelling just like heaven-- I had some early Christmas tunes on....I had changed into my velour jammies and I was feeling pretty good about myself.

Afterall, I am the "Ultimate Mother of Zion" -- just look at my License Plate.

I opened the oven door, took out the big pot of roast beef with boiling hot au jus-- and kicked the oven door shut. I had done this maneuver hundreds of times. I happen to be very coordinated....but not today. Today I was tired. I hit the pan on the lip of the stove and tipped the contents of the roast beef and juice all over my thighs----- Did I tell you it was boiling hot?

I shiver in pain just thinking about this.....hence, my not thinking about painful experiences motto.

SCREAM!!!!!! SCREAM AND MORE SCREAM!!!!

ANYWAY.....

No one was home.
I had left church early. I knew I was too tired after the NYC trip, and would have slept through SS and RS anyway... so this was the searing punishment I deserved, right?

My being alone was probably a good thing-- I would have scarred my children for life had they experienced their crazy pain filled screaming mommy. I didn't know what to do. How to help
myself. I ran over the hot au jus to the carpet , ripped off my melted velour pants and ran up to the bath tub; filled it with cold water and knelt and screamed in the water as I tried to splash it up onto my thighs.
Any way...one ER trip, morphine, bandaids, tears, salve and knees filled with 2nd and 3rd degree burns later and I was back home.

I would post my burned knees pictures, but they are just gross. I had to heal and salve and scrub and d r- ug myself for about 6 weeks before my bandaids finally came off.

I got a lot of RS dinners because of my pain.....and my house cleaned a time or two, and I had some faith promoting experiences along the way. My knees are mostly fine but it took awhile before I wanted Roast Beef in my home again.

Can you believe the lengths I will go to, to not cook?