Wednesday, February 14, 2007

Otherworldly Condiments: Discuss.

I just spent my girls' naptime cleaning salsa off the walls. No, this wasn't the result of a Tex-Mex tantrum. (But can you imagine one? Wouldn't it sound something like, "Nooooo, I said sour creeeeam on my burrito, Mama, NOT guacamoleeeeeee! Or: "I don't LIIIIIIKE the CORN tortillaaaaaas!")

I somehow dropped (and "dropped" really seems like an inadequate word right now) a big jug of salsa--do you know those huge 70 oz. plastic jugs, with the handle? Yeah, we eat a lot of salsa in our house. We can discuss that another time--and it, um, shattered. Exploded, even. Naturally this occurred not during a moment of calm repose for my girls, with the baby happily enchanted with her own fingers as she rocked dreamily in her swing and the toddler patiently reading herself a book or ten or twenty. No, it happened as I was rushing to clean up the kitchen from lunch, with the baby screaming her head off because she was suddenly--right that instant!--overdue for a nursing and a nap, and the toddler demanding "more sour cream--no, not there, Mama, I want it THERE on my plate; more black beans; I dropped my napkin; Mama, make Genevieve stop crying, pick Genevieve UUUUUUP! MAMA!" Because isn't that always when the salsa explodes? Of course it is--precisely because you're rushing, and you get clumsy in your haste. Or something.

Anyway, I'm telling you all this in the hope that you will truly get some entertainment out of it, because it really was kind of funny, in an "oh, s#*t!" kind of way. I had salsa splattered over my clothes (it goes without saying--doesn't it?--that I was wearing a white shirt), and it was all over the floor, cabinets, fridge door, counters, and oven. Drops of it had flown out of the room into the entry, up onto the mail stacked on the counter by the kitchen door, and into the refrigerator. (It occurs to me now that perhaps I should go check a mirror, and examine my hair.) I even found salsa behind the coffeemaker (wha....????) and on the back interior wall of the pots-and-pans cupboard, BEHIND THE COOKWARE THAT HAD BEEN IN THE CABINET, ostensibly blocking said back wall from flying salsa (but not really). How is that even possible? Was this superpowered robot salsa, or something?

I smell like a nice big juicy tomato right now, and I'm sure we'll be finding crusty salsa splatters in unlikely places for months to come. Ole!


Anonymous said...

Yeah, you'll probably be finding salsa drops for awhile. Just be glad you didn't drop, say, a jar of maple syrup or something sticky sweet that is likely to attract ants or Mr. Mouse.

Christopher said...

Man, I'm glad I wasn't there for the tsalsa tsunami.

Jim said...

If it explodes like that how does one dare to consume the stuff?