“Sunday family dinner is cancelled. Bring vodka and mop.”
This was a particularly unbelievable story that began with an innocent shopping trip to the grocery store to make the perfect Sunday family dinner.
I was dressed in a sundress and floating about my kitchen putting away the groceries and planning the meal in my head.
The kids were outside playing with their friends.
Jim was outside golfing with friends.
All was right in the world.
Then I dropped a can of whipped cream.
It just bounced and as I bent over to pick it up it shot diagonally like a rocket.
So I twisted myself and tried to catch it on the bounce.
Wait that isn’t a bounce!
HOLY CRAP BAGS…IT IS SPRAYING UP MY DRESS AND ALL OVER?
It is shooting all over my kitchen like a Jimmy Neutron jet pack and I am on a three-second delay trying to choose which random direction the can of whip cream will take after the next interaction with any hard surface.
It is a micro fine spray, and it is making its way around my kitchen like a naked picture of a teacher in High School.
I can’t form words as I shuffle around making a sound like, “ahhhhh–ooah-oooooh-eeehh-OOOOHHH!!!!”
I cannot catch the stupid thing. It finally spins across the wood floors as it runs out of jet fuel.
I look around and I am amazed that all of that fit in that little can.
It was all over the floor and the cabinets and up the walls about 8 feet. We have dark cabinets with lots of crevices. It was sprayed up into things at a funny angle. Up and into things like my dress and under my pony tail. That picture is of only half of the kitchen. I may have helped it travel by kicking it on accident.
Whip cream hates me and I hate whip cream now.
Whip cream is sticky and creamy and I am fairly certain was developed by the same terrorists as the “automatic candy dispenser” or “Christine” as I like to call it.
I sent my husband Jim and the boys a text message…
“Sunday family dinner cancelled in lieu of exploding can of whipped cream, think Jimmy Neutron jetpack style.”
I sent my girlfriends a different text…
“Sunday Dinner Cancelled, Bring Vodka and Mop”
Jimmy Neutron Photo from this website
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justbetweencousins says
Picture a sack of flour and a jet black puppy. All I had to do was follow the ghostly trail through the house. Then I was able to clean the kitchen. If I remember dinner that night it was freezer pizza instead of a homemade stew with flour gravy. That jet black puppy is an old dog now and she still stands under my feet when I am in the kitchen. She loves the food preparation times.
Peach State
makewayforlindaj says
Hysterical! Might I suggest going with Cool-whip next time? Far less prone to explode 😉
Teresa Cleveland Wendel says
I bet you’re the only person in the world that this has ever happened to.
All that makes you... says
Probably, because that is how I roll. 😉 It dropped and landed on the top sideways so the plastic tube thing broke.
alundeberg says
This is why I have white cabinets. (That means coffee and spaghetti sauce are my enemies.). Great post– hilarious!
All that makes you... says
We had white and when we redid the kitchen I had the cabinet maker do the cabinets in a finish that I loved that was on a bench we owned. It is a bench then never sees milkshake splatter. Live and learn. I tell Jim all the time that one day when we are sick of the kitchen we will paint it white. I do love a white kitchen but don’t get me started about what that kitchen looked like with three boys! We even had bright white countertops! The best part is the person who built my home is now one of my dearest friends and lives right behind me so I get to tease her constantly about the house choices she made 20 years ago when she was like 24! Ha ha! The original oven was the size of an Easy Bake! I couldn’t even fit my pans in it, fo shizzel! 😉
Julie Catherine says
LOL, Abbie, life is just never dull around you and your family! Hahahaha … sorry, but it was funny – now, who’s going to clean that mess up? 😀
All that makes you... says
I cleaned it all up. It was a spectacular mess. If I am going to explode whipped cream I want to do it with pizzaz. If you could see how I carry a can of Redi Whip you would think I was carrying a human heart for transport. Respect the Redi Whip.