Christmas this year was rather eventful and the story just begs to be shared. A bit of background info - my youngest sister Lisa was spending Christmas here with me, and my 3 kids and their significant others were joining us in the late afternoon.
Since I can't ever seem to sleep in, I rose fairly early and made coffee and my grandmother's delicious coffee cake, and went to get my newspaper - which wasn't there! Now, I am a Sunday-only subscriber but that entitles me to holiday issues as well. On Thanksgiving I didn't get a paper, called to complain TWICE and never did get one delivered (I went to a convenience store and bought one). So thinking "Here we go again", I called and was rather bitchy to the woman who answered and promised to have one delivered. To her credit, it DID show up two hours later.
Anyway, Lisa and I had a rather leisurely morning, drank coffee and ate coffee cake, I read the newspaper while she showered and dressed and then I did the same, and we watched a movie (A Christmas Memory by Truman Capote - GREAT film). Shortly after noon, we went to the kitchen to get something more substantial to eat, and decided to put some TGI Friday's frozen spinach/artichoke dip (yum) in the microwave. I rarely drink soda (I prefer to call it pop but I get teased about that here), but had bought some for the holidays for my kids and other guests, and I decided to have a glass of root beer with my lunch. The bottle was unopened and sitting on the floor next to the refrigerator - I set it on the counter, fixed a glass of ice and then started to open the bottle. It EXPLODED! Root beer gushed up into my face, sprayed all over me and everything around me. I was so shocked that I was speechless and just stood there, dripping. Lisa was on the other side of the room and had been spared the shower and, after a long pause, asked if there were towels somewhere she could get for me. Bless her heart, she kept her comments to herself until later (I caught her as she took a cigarette break and was outside LAUGHING on the phone as she described the scene to our brother Ron). Root beer was EVERYWHERE - all over me, my face, my hair, my clothes, the floor, the counter top and everything on it - including my canisters (I later found some inside the sugar canister since the lid wasn't on tight), coffee grinder, coffee pot, iced tea maker, electric can opener. It was also all over the side of the refrigerator that is closest to the counter, on the floor down between the counter and the refrigerator and behind it (I had to move the blasted thing to clean!), all over the upper and lower cabinet doors, as well as the front of the dishwasher (actually some was inside it I found later), and the floor was a pool of root beer. The sink and everything around it also got a bath - dishes that had been washed had to be re-washed. Above my sink is a "window" pass through into my dining room, and we discovered that root beer had gone through that window and was ON my dining room table on the other side. It was, literally, EVERYWHERE.
Using several bath and kitchen towels, paper towels, and sponges, we mopped up the puddles and got to work cleaning. Anything that had received the shower was now sticky and had to be washed several times before we could get it all removed. Every time I moved something, I found more root beer. At one point, I stopped wanting to cry and started to laugh at the situation and my face hurt - the dried root beer was sticking my skin in place!
After about an hour, we had the bulk of it done and I left Lisa, mopping the floor, to get into the shower and de-root beer myself. We then got all the towels (and my clothes) into the washer and started it, then went into the kitchen for another look - and to again try to have lunch.
I turned on the microwave to heat the spinach dip for the 2nd time, and opened a cabinet to get a plate for the crackers. I have Pfaltzgraff dishes which are heavy, and as I took a plate off the 2nd shelf, the little plastic pin that holds up the shelf broke, and the shelf started to tip. I grabbed the shelf and steadied it with one hand, started pulling dishes off the shelf with the other hand and Lisa came up behind me to help. We got the shelf unloaded and I climbed up onto the counter (not an easy task for a over-50 overweight woman!) to attempt to fix it. Wrong - the peg part of the pin had broken off in the hole on the side of the cabinet. After several attempts to remove the pin, I decide to try to glue it - and Lisa went off to find the "Gorilla Glue" (great stuff - try it). I applied the glue and held the pin in place for the glue to set-up, while still sitting on the counter - and had a good view of the living room through the pass-through. I could see one of my cats - Keiko- throwing up all over the living room. Why do all cats possess bulimic qualities!!!!
After holding the glued pin in place for a while, I managed to rig it with the shelf holding it in place, and left it overnight to dry. (It seems to be holding just fine two days later - I've reloaded the shelf and all is well - but I know I should NEVER say that!). I grabbed some paper towels, rags, and carpet cleaner (Spot Shot - another great product. Wonder if I can somehow get paid for advertising these items on here?) I finally got that mess all cleaned up, re-heated the spinach dip for the THIRD time, got a margarita (I gave up on the root beer!), and Lisa and I headed to the living room to nosh and PERHAPS watch a movie. It was now 3:00 and just as I sat down, son #1 and his girlfriend walked in. So much for peace and quiet (nothing personal meant, Greg)!
