Little Things

When you think about it, it’s the little things that make life better. Maybe not perfect…but definitely better.

Take tonight, for example. I made breakfast for dinner….French toast, to be exact. Given the fact that I am an excellent "cook" (not), the house immediately filled with smoke

…as this is the customary environment when Kathryn "cooks".

And in keeping with this time-honored tradition, my "cook"ware looked like this:

Sweet.

So, I reach under the sink for some sort of scrubbing chemical and I pull out one of the items my dad gave me the other day during my visit.

Dad has a habit of doling out items he finds (and doesn’t use) from his cupboards. He’ll hand it to you under the guise of being generous…but we kids know it’s his way of cleaning out stuff without actually having to throw anything away.

This is the stuff:

…and it’s probably been under his sink since…I’m estimating around 1979.

I expected the powder to be white…it was black. For a second, I wondered if the powder had been replaced with 30 years worth of mouse poop.

Ya know what? It worked freakin’ great. Melted that cement-like grease away…I’m sure it’s some chemical that’s since been banned by the FDA for causing lab mice to grow an extra nipple and stalk around in their cages rolling their eyes and informing anyone who even glances at them to “seriously bite me”.

Here’s hoping all of yoos have a great freakin’ New Year’s. You’d betta listen up. Don’t make me go all Guido on yoos.

(New Yawk sending out the loooove)

Fuggetaboutit.