So, I get home from school today, and I’m tired. Probably because I got four hours of sleep last night and my allergy medicine (which is not working) is making me quite drowsy. I grab the mail, flip a couple pounds of junk mail from colleges into the recycle, realize I’m really, really tired. Okay, I’m tired and have ten million hours of stuff to do tonight (which is why I’m posting here, by the way). Coffee - that makes me untired. Coffee is good, right? Oooh, and I’ve got these nifty little flavor tablets that my boyfriend gave me. Meanie, he gives me stuff like that then mocks my caffiene habit.
And thus, I make a cup of coffee. I add the little flavor tablet. The sweet smell of hazlenut wafts towards me. Life, for a few blissful moments, is good and pure.
Oops, almost forgot the sugar. Three heaping spoonfuls, because that’s the way I am (aside from the state of I-hate-finals and the county of I-need-sleep).
Take a nice, slow mouthful of the pleasantly hot liquid. Pause. SOmething’s not right.
eeeeewwww
That wasn’t sugar.
That was salt. I dumped a freakin’ salt mine into my coffee! I don’t even like salt on pretzels. I put some in mac and cheese, and on popcorn. Apparently, my mother decided that filling the sugar bowl with salt was a good ideal.
You would be surprised if I´told you how many times I´ve heard of this.
By the way, my grandpa used to put some butterin his chocolate. One day he stpes into my mother and tells her “that butter you just bought is quite strange, it doesn´t disolves in the chocolate”. My mother told him “but we haven´t had butter for weeks, what are you talking about?”. “oh, this one” said my grandpa pontign at a packet of soaked cheese. “But that´s cheese!” yells my mom, “didn´t you realized when you ate it?”. “No”, replies calmly my grandpa, “I just swallowed it”.
My grandpa rocks, the best grandpa ever!!!
My grandmother has two of those pour-top dispensers (like the ones in cafes) for her powdered creamer and sugar. Probelm is, they’re identical, and at a casual glance, you can’t always tell which it is. Twice now, I’ve ruined a cup of tea by grabbing the wrong one.
My husband just told me that he put flour on his waffles by mistake the other day. He thought the cannister on the counter contained powdered sugar.
This won’t sound as gross as it really was, but if you hate nutmeg as much as I do, it’s really, really gross: I mistook nutmeg for cinnamon and loaded up a dish of applesauce with it. Blecch. It turns my stomach to think about it.
Then there was the time my sister and I filled the honey bear with Flex shampoo, and vice versa, on April Fool’s Day. My Dad took one bite of his shampoo-covered toast, began literally foaming at the mouth and ran to the kitchen sink to throw up. We felt terrible.
I once liberally sprinkled my French toast with “powdered sugar.” No wait, that was SALT. Not good with maple syrup.
I also once took some leftover spaghetti out of the fridge, intending to nuke it for lunch, then went to pour myself a glass of OJ to drink with it – but poured it into the spaghetti instead.
Once had breakfast at the college dining hall with a friend who took a bite of pancakes drenched in maple syrup… only to find that the “maple syrup” was soy sauce. Oops.
I asked her how she didn’t notice the smell, and she shrugged and said, “Finals week.”
Years ago, I live in a large rooming house with a shared kitchen which over the years had assembled a plethora of leftover utensils, silverware, spices, etc. from various tenants. One night, after several beers apiece, a guest and I ordered a large pizza to give the beer something to latch onto. Thinking to augment it flavorwise, I rummaged through the kitchen and came up with a shaker cannister labeled “Red Pepper” and filled with a reddish brown powder. Sounded good, so we sprinkled it liberally over the pie.
A few bites, and the oddness began to be noticeable: a strange elusive sweetness to the sausage. A few more bites and more sweetness. I finally thought to smell the pepper cannister.
I’m reminded of the time my roommate thought it would be fun to “Nair” his legs. In my bathtub. Leaving the bottle of said “Nair” right next to my shampoo. I wear thick glasses, except in the shower.
No, I didn’t use the wrong bottle, but it was a very near miss.
[sub]He used body lotion right after the hair removal, and developed a nasty rash. Gotta love that karma![/sub]
One time when my date came to my door she saw that I had some hair gel on my ear and took some and put it in her hair but it was actually my semen. I put semen on my ears all the time just to see if this happens. For some reason people have been wary of it for the past few years.
I spent the night at my sister’s house several years ago.
Not having brought my own toothpaste, I squeezed a dollop of theirs on my toothbrush.
After about two seconds of teeth-brushing did I realize that something was horribly wrong.
I picked up the toothpaste tube to read the label, only to discover that I had a mouth full of…
I used to serve a friend of mine salted orange squash on purpose.
She must have fallen for my “kind offers” to make her a drink about three separate times. Talk about trusting…
My father once poured gravy on his second helping of icecream, instead of chocolate sauce (home made, also in a jug). Just as he lifted the spoon to his mouth, my mother realised, and stopped him on impulse.
She has regretted this ever since. An anecdote of my father with a mouthful of beef-gravy-vanilla-ice-cream would have been so much more enjoyable
A friend in college had a Japanese friend over. She went to brush her teeth and came out of the bathroom with a puzzled look on her face. “Toothpaste taste so bad! Why taste so bad?”
She had used KY jelly. Poor thing.
Am I the only one who remembers the Saturday morning song about not drowing your food? This is the reason I never put anything on my food. Everything I eat is plain and I like it that way.
