I was making dinner tonight (steak sandwiches from Rachael Ray, YUM-O!), and waiting for my mom to get there so she could watch Maggie, so that when Dan got home, he could go cut the grass (since it wasn’t raining for 2.5 seconds this week) and then while he was cutting the grass and my mom was watching Maggie, I could go to Power Yoga class at 7:15. (ah, nothing like the kid-shuffle!) The timer went off for the oven, alerting me that the tater tots were done. I threw on an oven mitt and opened the door.
Both Maggie and the cat (Scotty) suddenly became interested in the open door to the 450 degree oven, so I was hurrying to get the baking sheet out and on top of the stove so I could shut the oven door, saving both of them from being burned. In the process of all of that, the baking sheet tilted and, as a reflex, I reached out with my right hand to grab it.
That hand was NOT wearing an oven mitt.
I burned all 5 of my fingertips on that hand. At first I didn’t think it was too bad- you know those first few moments where a burn doesn’t actually hurt? Yeah, forgot that THAT PART ENDS. I didn’t really feel the pain until I went out to the grill to check the steaks and Oh My Word, the heat radiating up from the grill to my hands shot needles up my arm. I swear, I think I would have rather felt labor pains again.
I finished making dinner, taking breaks to run ice cold water over my red, sore fingertips- oh sweet relief, not unlike the epidural during labor (am I the only Mom who now compares everything to labor? I suppose it’s only natural to do so- it’s kind of a benchmark now for if something REALLY EFFING HURTS.) Then I slathered my fingers in triple antibiotic (with Pain Relief Medication! That doesn’t work for crap!) and taped about 57 Bandaids to my fingers so I could eat my dinner. I didn’t take any pictures, but I looked like a victim of a 4th of July celebration gone awry.
I did make it to yoga, and only a couple of times did I wince in pain and think maybe I should pack it in and go home. Something about the heated room and the pressure on my fingers during certain poses just really made those nerve-endings angry. But, I did make it through (yay!) and they’re actually feeling quite a bit better. Every 10 minutes or so, they’ll start throbbing and pinching pretty badly, but after a minute or so it goes away. And so far, only 2 fingers have blisters.
So basically, I demonstrated my love for my daughter, and surprisingly my cat, by throwing myself into the fire, so to speak. They’d better appreciate it.