It was a bad, bad kitchen morning. I mean, Bad, with a capital B.
For some reason, the cats are under the impression that being underfoot when preparing a meal is an okay thing. It isn't. I make a point of not feeding them when I'm actually getting food ready. There was yelling on my part when I'd barely miss tripping over this cat or that. Once out of the kitchen, there was yowling from outside of the kitchen, since I'd hurt their feelings.
There were responding "SHUT UP!"s from the kitchen.
Saturday morning. Blueberry pancakes and eggs. I usually get two small fry pans, pour the batter into the pans, drop the blueberries into the batter and turn on the heat. I don't like mixing the blueberries in the batter beforehand, I use frozen berries and the batter turns a weird color. I don't like the weird color. This morning, I figured I'd try the electric fry pan.
The batter spread without the heat on. It was too thin. I turned on the heat and poured out a second pancake. Still thin and the blueberries stuck up too high for the thin batter. Into the trash. I started over with just plain pancakes. While they were cooking, I sliced some butter and put the slices in the microwave to melt. After this, I'd heat up some syrup. I was checking out the pancakes when the butter exploded.
Yeah, a mess in the micro. I'd just let it go. Then there was another popping sound. What? I turned around and looked at the microwave.
I set it for twenty minutes, not twenty seconds.
More yelling and expletives.
Meanwhile, Pete was just sitting on the floor, in my way. Everytime I moved from the counter to the stove, I had to go around him. I used the side of my foot to help him get his move on. Move on out of the kitchen.
Then I wiped down the inside of the micro, heated up the butter, broke eggs into the pan, heated up the syrup, flipped the pancakes and breakfast was ready.
I hate starting off the day with all the little problems. I hate it.