Happy For Finger Sticks

Last week I was being that unusually domestic wife and was made Brent breakfast. (Which by the way is the only meal I can cook well....a mean omelette!) And again, as usual, I was trying to do 10,000 things at the same time...get myself ready for work, make my lunch, etc....
Let's cut to the chase...I set a cookie sheet on top of the fry pan to melt the cheese on top of the beautiful omelette that was sizzling underneath. In my haste, I picked up the sheet only to realize that it was scorching hot. Well, OF COURSE it is dummy, it's been sitting on top of there for like 5 min. I threw it immediately on the ground, screamed a few choice expletives, and stuck my fingers under cold water. After those sounds coming from the kitchen, Brent came in wondering what the hell I had done. "You OK?"..."Yes, I'm fine. I'm just an idiot that's all!"

After icing my 4 fingers for 30 min....while trying to get ready for work....I looked closely at them to see nothing in the form of blisters. That kinda surprised me, but I was happy because I have to use my hands for cutting all those domes. I figured I was just lucky, and then looked down again to see nothing...except all those little black dots representing the millions of finger sticks I've done. That's when the light bulb went off!! Callouses I say! Callouses! I just burned a bunch of dead skin.
Happy for those finger sticks! I'm sticking to something I'm good at...out of the kitchen and on to my bike.:)