Victoria Day Weekend Gone To Pot.

I was going to do a bunch of things. I was going to visit friends, and weed the side bed, and buy a pot.

I need to buy a pot because E wrecked the perfectly serviceable one that my grandma bought my aunt in 1967 and then I inherited when I moved out. He started a grease fire in it while trying to make popcorn, and then I yelled at him. Quite a lot. It was almost as high on the Richter scale as the night he discovered that I liked John Mellencamp. That was a big fight.

The thing was, time telescoped. I saw him holding the pot on fire, and then I screamed, “Put the lid on! Put the lid on! DO NOT put water in that pot! SMOTHER IT!” And he seemed to stare at it for approximately three months instead of following my goddamn instructions. Because fire in my house? Turns out it kicks me into adrenalin overdrive, and every second stretches to infinity.

Of course, I apologized, eventually. But I almost killed him, I was so mad. Seriously. That pot was the best popcorn making pot, and it had a history in my family. I don’t know if I can find another popcorn pot as good. I keep looking at pots and wondering about their popcorn-making abilities. Because you can’t ask to test drive a pot. So it has to be just right.

And then I will be the only person to touch that pot. Or I’m breaking out the Mellencamp.

4 Comments to “Victoria Day Weekend Gone To Pot.”

  1. By Beth, May 24, 2010 @ 9:17 am

    Fire in the house, no matter how small, is a very scary thing.

  2. By Liz, May 24, 2010 @ 11:25 am

    My reaction surprised me, for sure. Monkey brain kicked in.

  3. By Arwen, May 25, 2010 @ 10:13 pm

    What sort of pot was it? Cast iron? Stainless?

  4. By Liz, May 26, 2010 @ 12:04 am

    Nothing that special, Arwen. Aluminum.

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