sometimes f*** is the only word that fits
You know those occasions where damn or blast just don't seem right?
When even Bloody Hell isn't strong enough?
I had one of those last Saturday evening.
I'd found a can of apricot halves in the back of the pantry when sorting the contents and thought I'd have some with icecream for dessert.
I'd served a portion into my bowl and had emptied the rest of the can into a plastic container with screw top lid ready to go into the fridge.
I hadn't yet screwed the lid on and as I lifted the empty can towards the sink for rinsing out, I nudged the now full container of apricot halves and syrup.
I reached to stop it from spilling but it was too quick.
Apricots and syrup all over the hotplates and bench.
Well, damn just wasn't going to work.
It was definitely time for the stronger word.
Which I used, rather loudly.
I mopped, rinsed the sponge, mopped some more, rinsed the sponge again, rinse and repeat, until the hotplates were clean.
Then I washed them down again with hot soapy water when I did the dishes later.
Luckily, the hotplates are sealed to the surface, so there was no drip through to clean up.
When even Bloody Hell isn't strong enough?
I had one of those last Saturday evening.
I'd found a can of apricot halves in the back of the pantry when sorting the contents and thought I'd have some with icecream for dessert.
I'd served a portion into my bowl and had emptied the rest of the can into a plastic container with screw top lid ready to go into the fridge.
I hadn't yet screwed the lid on and as I lifted the empty can towards the sink for rinsing out, I nudged the now full container of apricot halves and syrup.
I reached to stop it from spilling but it was too quick.
Apricots and syrup all over the hotplates and bench.
Well, damn just wasn't going to work.
It was definitely time for the stronger word.
Which I used, rather loudly.
I mopped, rinsed the sponge, mopped some more, rinsed the sponge again, rinse and repeat, until the hotplates were clean.
Then I washed them down again with hot soapy water when I did the dishes later.
Luckily, the hotplates are sealed to the surface, so there was no drip through to clean up.
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Miserable. There are so many cracks and crannies for that sticky syrup to flow into.
ReplyDeleteOh, no. I hope your ice cream was some where safe. Did you eat it first, considering the nasty job facing you.
ReplyDeleteSome years back I lifted up a (big) container of olive oil to pour it into the smaller container I use for day to day cooking. The bottom fell out of the big container and about two litres of olive oil splashed the cupboards on its way to the floor. Where it spread. Seeping under cupboards. So I do so understand the need for the stronger word. (And I cannot tell you how many times I had to wash the floor before I was happy with it.)
ReplyDeleteI am with Joanne - I hope you enjoyed your apricots before the miserable clean-up.
I think it's called 'Murphy's Law' - if it can happen, it will happen and if it can't possibly happen, it's going to happen anyway - so worry not. Hope the apricots you had in your dish tasted nice
ReplyDeleteDropped a full bottle raspberry cordial on the floor once and it shattered. No matter how many times we mop the floor it was still sticky for months on end. Try saying Frack or Frig then it won't sound so bad.
ReplyDeleteYou're progressing, I'm so pleased; I lived in the Housing Commission four years and knew women who could swear like an outraged pimp.
ReplyDeleteOh what a horrible sticky mess!!! Like you 'bloody hell' is probably my standard when things go wrong but when they go really wrong it's "s..." so not yet progressed quite as far as you did this time. I think though we've all had times when only really bad swear words will do and this one certainly was. A lass I worked with years ago said the first word her son said began with F so what you said probably wouldn't have been noticed by she or her husband!!
ReplyDeleteYou're forgiven. Some situations call for the big gun words, and that mess ranks right up there. Reminds me of the time years ago my hubby and a buddy went to the package goods store on a Harley to get a gallon plastic jug of draught beer. (Seemed like a good idea at the time.) He accidentally dropped the jug onto the kitchen floor, and I'm telling you, that thing exploded! Beer everywhere... even dripping from the ceiling. Talk about an enormous sticky smelly mess.
ReplyDeleteAh yes. The F word deservedly comes out during:
ReplyDelete* messy spills
* avoiding an accident (not your fault) whilst driving
* stubbing your toe or shin on furniture
* bending down to pat your dog as she leaps up to lick you at the same time and you get her rock hard head hit you in the bridge of the nose
* no chocolate left in the house.
Heading towards Christmas, that's about the only word that comes out of my mouth.
ReplyDeleteAnd you had to mention ice-cream and Kath had to mention chocolate. Drooling now.
Oh thats a nightmare..I so hate it when that sort of thing happens
ReplyDeleteDelores; the hotplates and surface are a sealed unit, there's no way anything can drip underneath.
ReplyDeleteJoanne Noragon; the icecream was still in the freezer, so I did the mopping up first, then got out the icecream.
Elephant's Child; holy heavens!! Two Litres of oil! Did you ever manage to get it all out from under the cabinets? I cleaned up first, then enjoyed the apricots.
Molly; Murphy doesn't come around here too often, thank goodness. There were a few apricots still in the plastic container with about two tablespoons of syrup. so I got to eat dessert again on Sunday.
Windsmoke; raspberry cordial is very very sticky. It requires many, many rinsings after the first mopping. Usually I say fudge or frick, but now and again the f bomb drops.
R.H. I don't agree with you. I don't see being able to swear like a wharfie as progress. Especially not in general conversation, with every second word being a swear word.
Mimsie; I haven't said s*** for a very long time, I usually get the sh part, then stop. I think it's very sad when small children swear on a regular basis.
Susan Flett-Swiderski; that sounds like the sort of situation where a hose through the back door to wash everything down would be a good idea.
Kath Lockett; ah yes, the stubbing of toes or shins. Knees too. I once knelt down to put something back onto the floor of the wardrobe and knelt too close, so on the way down my knee made swift contact with the edge of the wardrobe floor. Broke the skin through my jeans. I swore and cried simultaneously while writhing around the floor. Yet surprisingly it was okay once the first hurt disappeared. A lack of chocolate doesn't bother me, so no swearing there. I just don't seem to want it as much as I used to.
JahTeh; oh, I'm so sorry. Think about mince pies instead. Oh, wait....that won't do at all. (evil laugh)
Tempo; thankfully it doesn't happen too often. I'm usually much more careful.