I just burned my freaking toe
…while cooking spaghetti. (Or actually, a variation of spaghetti, with shell pasta instead of spaghetti noodles, because I’m really tired of spaghetti.)
But apparently the pasta gods didn’t like that, and made my big toe pay the price.
Also, I’m no longer a JR Ward virgin. But that has nothing to do with a) my dinner or b) my big toe, and so I will talk about it later on another blog post.
that’s disturbing. I mean, are you cooking with your toes?
This has nothing to do with your toe, and only marginally to do with dinner.
I took my kids out for dinner and took along a copy of Demon Angel to read while they played. In Mexico, just about every restaurant has a play area for kids, even the nice ones. It’s a young country.
Anyway, I was reading and my offspring became intrigued by the cover. “Demon Angel,” my son, aged 7, read aloud.
“That’s stupid,” said my daughter, aged 9. “You can’t be an angel AND a demon. They’re two different things.”
My son thought about that and looked at the cover some more. “No,” he said finally. “He’s the angel. I think the lady is the demon.”
I finally got interested in the converation. I looked up. “How do you know that?”
He rolled his eyes at me, such an obvious question. “She doesn’t have any wings.”
Wow. My kids are pretty smart!
You just solved my ‘what’s for dinner’ problem. I’m going to try and do it without burning my toe
CindyS