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Ouch
By courtney | May 25, 2009
Memorial Day Weekend was lovely. Except for one part.
When I got home from work on Sunday evening, Keith was gracious enough to sit me down on the couch while he worked on making some of his (famous) fajitas. Well, I was already on the couch — what could it hurt to play a little MarioKart while I waited? I raced… I dominated… I yelled at the other racers… I heard a small “ouch” from the kitchen.
I really mean that it was a small sound, by the way. No yelling. No extra noises. It doesn’t even deserve an exclamation point. So I yelled the obligatory question to the kitchen: “Are you okay?” (The noise had been so anticlimactic that it hardly deserved a wifely freak-out over Keith’s proximity to death.) The response: “I’m making a mess.” See there? Everything was fine. Just fine. The sink turned on. I continued racing.
Until Keith came out to the couch to show me his arm. My favorite person (and the bestest cook) had hot oil spatters all the way up his right forearm. Big, showy, red splotches that screamed “HEY! LOOK! VERY HOT BURNS!” And there he stood, cool as a cucumber, like it happens everyday. I was not so nonchalant. First, I almost swallowed my tongue in surprise. Secondly, I considered driving him to the best doctors in Portland to save his arm from inevitable gangrene and amputation. Thirdly, I absently admired the marked lack of cussing in our kitchen.
So there you have it. Keith is the proud owner of Pizza Arm. Unfortunately/fortunately, it looks remarkably less dramatic today — just a few well-defined red welts. (Thanks for the fist aid advice, Josh and Cheri!) It hardly qualifies for Pizza Arm status anymore, really. But until his showy wounds heal, he is accorded the honor of Order of the Red Spatula for sacrifices above and beyond the call of duty.
Topics: daily life | 2 Comments »
May 26th, 2009 at 6:59 pm
Well, for heavens sake, Keith. You didn’t make it seem like it was THAT bad when you texted me. A bad wound would have demanded an actual voice contact. ;>) How is it doing? Did the dinner go on as planned?
May 28th, 2009 at 8:58 pm
I need to amend my previous statement! A friend pointed out the fact that “pizza arm” seems to refer to a texture, not a color. Keith’s arm like a normal arm — it just has dark red splotches that look like pepperoni slices. Other than that, he is remarkably undamaged and unblistered.
(Thank goodness)