I should know better by now. I should know that when Abel says, “I need to go into a kitchen shop to replace XYZ”, he actually means “I want to go into the wooden spoon section, to get something to beat you with.” (OK, he probably wants to buy stuff to cook with too, but that motivation is definitely secondary.)
But yesterday I naively followed him into the shop, and stood by as he sorted through measuring jugs and other gizmos, only to see him pick up the thickest, scariest wooden spoon in the world. (Maybe it only seemed that way at the point, of course. The spoon you’re about to get smacked with is always the worst ever.) Protestations were no use: it was clear that the thing was coming home with us.
I’d forgotten all about it by the time I ran my bath this morning, – only to get a nasty surprise when Abel walked into the bathroom, spoon in hand.
“Hands on the edge of the bath,” he said snappily. The bubbles in the tub winked at me as I complied, promising me comfort after it was all over.
As the spoon swung back, I squeaked and twisted out of the way before it came anywhere near me.
“Hey, no moving!” Abel sounded surprised. “You get an extra one for that! I was going to give you four, but it’s five now.”
Now he tells me, I thought. He raised the spoon again, and this time I closed my eyes to keep from seeing it take aim. The swats were quick, crisp and agonising. I couldn’t even tell how many I’d had, by the time it was over.
“Now get into the bath and sit,” said Abel, watching smugly as I writhed around.
Good old kitchen shops. How I don’t love them, let me count the ways.
Haron, I think this needs a bit of creative thinking… maybe you should convince Abel that all home kitchens are habouring millions of dreadful germs, and therefore unhygenic in the extreme. So what you need to do is eat out all the time. And as you will never be in the kitchen, all “cooking” utensils can be thrown away. Simple really. (Of course, you might need a large bank loan to PAY for it, but hey, who cares about the details…)
Really, Abel, kitchen utensils are to be used in the kitchen! Just as you surely wouldn’t eat in the bathroom, you shouldn’t “cook” there, either. And of course victims in the kitchen must be allowed to retain a layer or two of clothing, for the sake of hygiene, of course.
Eliane – we do clean our kitchen, you know. Occasionally. (Very occasionally!)
Indiana – I guess I *could* spank Haron again with it over her jeans, if you insist?
Haron, I SINCERELY hope that you and Abel did some of those things you never do after that ordeal! It would have been very mean of him to have just abandoned you with your bubbles.
LOL Pandora, I think you mean “those things we never write about here”, rather than “never do”!!!!!
😉
Am I the only one thinking kitchen spoons can’t possibly hurt?
Um, yes.
Because the rest of us KNOW they can.
And do.
It was a wooden spoon that was the first implement that caused me to safe word…
Anyway who thinks they can’t possibly hurt, has never been whacked properly with one… they can be even more evil than a hairbrush
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