My daughter’s voice came from the kitchen, “Are there suppose to be flames shooting from the pan on the stove?” She’s had a rough week of working noon to nine in order to train new staff, plus she had a job interview in northern Virginia on Monday morning. She got the news Thursday that she was top on the list of applicants, but unfortunately the contract for the job had been lost. They told her to check back the first of June. I’m so wondering why they headhunted her if there was a possibility they had nothing to offer. Not that this was the first thing on my mind at the moment.
I dropped what I was doing and made a “come as you are” dash to the kitchen. I had been in the slow process of getting undressed and the slacks and shoes I wore that day had already been discarded. I had on my white thong and the tight tee shirt I had worn under my jacket at work. I grabbed the pan off the stove and clicked off the burner. My husband ambles in looking sheepish. “I can’t believe I forgot about that pan.”
“What were you cooking,” my daughter asks, gazing at the still bubbling liquid in the skillet. Her father, unabashed, explains his theory on cleaning pans. “I always put a little soap and water in the pan and put it back on the stove. It cooks the grease off.” My daughter stares at him for a second. “My father sets water on fire and my mother is in the kitchen in her underwear. No wonder I didn’t get that job.”
I’m sorry dear. I wanted to give you a normal life.
Normal lives are for wussies. You're toughening her up for the world out there ;-)
ReplyDeleteWait until she finds out about her half brother. Normal will go out the window. Poor kid.
ReplyDeleteLilu, I think I've succeeded beyond my wildest dreams.
ReplyDeleteCEO: I won't tell her if you won't.
Shit happens-and I am sure that the job being shut down before the water caught on fire had nothing to do with your panties showing up in the kitchen.
ReplyDeleteYou're right Brook, I walk around in my underwear most of the time actually. Perhaps I'm trying to encourage her to move on with her life. I was disappointed that my husband wasn't fast enough on his feet to suggest to me that my underwear had something to do with his forgetfulness.
ReplyDelete