Some of you heard me moan about a #kitchenfail incident yesterday and wanted pictures. The Tart aims to please.
This was a bottle of sparkling non-alcoholic “wine” purchased for the kids at Christmas. Obviously we never drank it and left it to languish in our over-the-stove cupboard, awaiting its Easter fate. The ToolMaster figures it got annoyed and decided to protest by way of fermentation. Oy. Next time my beverages get pissed off at me, I hope they go in for marches and bullhorns instead.
Anyway, although the crack looks pretty minor, there was sticky liquid and glass bits spread throughout the entire cupboard. The juice itself dripped down through the microwave, which is probably now toast. (P is in hour four of microwave resuscitation, and it still ain’t looking good for the patient.) It blew the breaker, coated all four stove burners and flowed into the catch space between burners and oven.
Another stream meandered down the back of the stove to emerge in a puddle out the front. There were pussy-toe prints leading away from said puddle all over my kitchen floor, indicating the fundamental cat principle of “what’s in it for me?” remains alive and well. 🙁 (You’ll have to take my word for it. The pictures of mostly clear liquid didn’t reveal the extent of the problem.)
So, my kid-free writing time turned into a cleaning fest yesterday, but what are you gonna do? It could have been much worse. In truth, I feel a little sorry for the bottle. Don’t you think it looks like it’s cringing in the picture to the left? Like a kid with a full bladder who couldn’t get to the bathroom on time?
Oh, and one more consequence of the event? Without a microwave or fan for the stove top — and residue on the burners, no matter what I did — I couldn’t cook supper. A shame, that. 😉
Side note: In the course of writing this blog, I have used more than 300 tags. Not once have I had occasion to employ the words “cleaning” or “non-alcoholic.” Coincidence they should arrive at the same time, then pretend they don’t know one another? Please. I’m not that naive.