Deadly Spaghetti

Earlier today, I got hungry. So I decided I would have some cottage cheese, lettuce, and pears. I knew I had some canned pears somewhere in the pantry, but had to do a little digging. As most know, we live in an RV. That means little bits of space crammed full with lots of stuff. The pantry opens two ways. One side opens through the kitchen, and the opposite side opens from the living area (right over our bed). Fortunately, nothing falls out, unless I open the door and things have been stacked wonky. Yes, this happens, because I have children.

Going back to last week.... we had a Christmas party for an organization I...well...organize. At this party, we had spaghetti. It was the most delicious spaghetti I'd had in a very long time. The host of the party gave me a container of the spaghetti sauce she had prepared along with a full bag of uncooked spaghetti noodles. I brought them home, and the next day (for lunch) I had spaghetti. I opened the package, left it on the counter after cooking some, and figured that someone else would probably want some too since my family kept asking what I was eating and what smelled so good.

What I didn't know is that my son decided that just putting the opened package of noodles on top of the stacks of cans would be A-OK. Well, it wasn't.

Back to the story.... I open the pantry side that is over our bed and my husband already knows to take cover because sometimes cans will fall down. What we didn't expect was the package of spaghetti noodles to be tilted back towards the opening of the door and get hit with a barrage of spaghetti noodles.

I was helpless as the nearly full bag of noodle spilled continuously onto my husband's head, stabbing him with it's pointy little pasta straws in the back of the head, shoulders, and even some going down his back and into his butt-crack.

Of course, I erupt into complaints and gripes over the ignorance and lazy effort of putting up an opened package of noodles and just laying them on top of cans without consideration to them spilling everywhere. Once I was done complaining, I realized I hadn't asked my poor husband if he was injured or not.

"Honey? Are you alright?"

"Yeah. I'm fine. Just got some spaghetti stuck in my beard and butt crack. That's all."

I couldn't help it. I broke up laughing and had tears rolling down my face.

"Can you imagine the ER trip for that one? 'Sir, how did you lose an eye again?' ... 'I was attacked by spaghetti noodles. It was a trap. My wife went for pears and the noodles were launched.'  .... (Nurse) 'We need a room on the psych ward prepared. We've got a real loon on our hands here!'"

Needless to say, the noodles have been safely packed away, but we're still finding noodle pieces in the bed here and there. *sigh*

No Response to "Deadly Spaghetti"

Post a Comment