Wednesday Word—Karma

I was innocently lying here on the kitchen table when all hell broke loose.

CK here with your update on what’s happening at La Condo Keisha. This is a continuation of my Monday Musings. Our Sundays are usually a flurry of activity. Certainly not the typical easy Sundays.  Laundry is done; beds are remade; food is cooked; The Cat is ignored.

Almost every Sunday TW makes her “Delishus chick-hen.” It’s called that for a reason. Can you guess why? This Sunday, they decided to make a mess of what they call “Baked Ziti” because they can have it for 3-4 meals. They buy most of the ingredients in advance and just buy the test tubes* the day before they cook it. Pop axed TW if she was sure the cheese wasn’t expired. She answered they were dated July and August.

Waiter!!! What’s this crap? Where’s my chick-hen??

TW went to work cooking up the test tubes. She handed them off to Pop to cut up and started cooking the pasta. So far so good. The Cat was still being ignored and, worse yet, pushed aside on the table. Then things got good! TW started to drain the pasta. We don’t have no fancy strainers or anything cos we poor people. TW has done this a thousand times without incident. I think you know where I’m going with this.

What’s all that screaming about in here? Keep it down.

OMC! Agonizing screams suddenly came from the kitchen. “I’m burning! Somebody help! I’ve got to get out of these clothes!” Pop went on cutting the test tubes cos he knows what a drama queen TW is. He figured she’d grabbed the metal part of the handles instead of the rubber cos she sometimes does that.

When he finally looked, she was holding her shirt up with one hand, trying to shake the "Ove Glove" off with the other and still screaming. Once she was able to shake the glove off, she started stripping right there in the kitchen! Whoa! I didn’t expect a floor show of this magnitude! The sight was disgusting and arresting at the same time. I couldn’t look away.

Her terribly distended abdomen was bright red and I could practically see the stars coming out of it. (While I do have a photo, I will spare you.) She has no idea how she did it but apparently, she missed the sink with the scalding water and poured it onto the lip of the counter that her belly was resting up against. She was in tears. I was thinking, Woman, remember that time you hit me square with the foam rubber rocket? Well that’s what it felt like. Karma one, TW zero.

After she changed, she felt a little better and went to the computer to get to work on blogging and visiting chores. It wasn’t long until Karma struck again.

All I want is an EZ Sunday and Chinese takeout. Is that too much to ax?

Pop: Houston, we have a problem! A big problem.

TW went waddling to the kitchen table to see what Pop was going on about. The ricotta that was dated August was moldy. I cannot repeat the HBO words cos this is a family blog. Pop was about to scrub the whole operation and The Cat was egging him on. Pop, are we gonna order Chinese food now? You know how much I like Chinese food!

As usual, TW dashed my dreams. She decided to run out to the bodega and buy another tub of ricotta. But, Woman, you’re injured! I cried. It’ll cost a fortune! It’s more cost effective to order Chinese.

Unfortunately, TW wasn’t too burnt to run out. She said it would make her forget the pain she was in.  It was late when the peeps ate but they had Baked Ziti and The Cat had nada.

TW is fine. Her burns were minor and although her abdomen is still a little tender, it’s not even red. I told you she overreacted.

* Test tubes include any meat such as hot dogs or sausage that is in casings cos they’re in the shape of test tubes and they’re 99% chemicals.