Life's Kitchen Injustices

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Is it just me, or is it an unfair trick of the universe that waterstones need to be flattened and lapped so frequently?  I mean maintenance for the maintenance?  Come on.

BDL
 
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Is it just me, or is it an unfair trick of the universe that waterstones need to be flattened and lapped so frequently?  I mean maintenance for the maintenance?  Come on.

BDL
He he I have a kitchen injustice..

Why does the butcher always put his box of meat on the counter that I have just sanitised? I move it to the fridge and resanitise only to find that I have turned my back and the fish guy has been in and put his box in the same spot.
 
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A number of places put heavy butcher paper down on table then a cutting board. Table stays clean and wood doesn't stain.
 
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My kichen injustice:

Why is it when I drop a slice of bread,  it always lands buttered side down, so I have a mess to clean up? 
 
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My injustices...

Why is it that eggs break on their way out of the shell?  I can understand if they break during a flip but on their way out is just crazy.  It's very frustrating when we're busy and I'm already in the weeds to begin with. 

Why is it that when I ask for help if I get smoked on the lunch station, that sometimes the "help" is more of a hindrance and I'd have been better off getting through it on my own?

I'm sure if I put my mind to it I could come up with alot more...
 
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kuan

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Why does it take longer to do the dishes than it does to make dinner?
 
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Grace, do you know the story about the time the bread landed butter side up? It's rather long, but I'll post it if you like.
 
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I'd be pleased if you would share it.  I've not heard this story. 

OK, Grace. But don't go blaming me. You did ask, after all: 

It came to pass, in the old days, in a small village in the Pale of Settlement, that bubbi was preparing dinner. She dropped a slice of buttered bread and, lo! it landed butter side up.

 

Whoever heard of such a thing?

 

She quickly called her husband and asked if he could explain it. Which, of course, he couldn’t. So they went to see the rabbi.

 

“Rabbi,” they asked, “how could this be, that the bread landed butter side up?”

 

The rabbi stroked his beard, and cleared his throat, and said, “in the Talmud are the answers to everything. Come back in a few days and I’ll have your answer.

 

The rabbi researched the holy book, but could find no explanation. “We will have to travel to the next town, where there is a better scholar than I. He will have the answer.”

 

At no small expense the rabbi, and the man, and the woman traveled to the next town, where there lived a talmudic scholar of some replutation.

 

“How could it be,” the rabbi asked, “that such a thing occurs; that the bread landed butter side down.”

 

“Come back in a week, and I will have your answer,” he replied.

 

A week later, at no small expense, they returned to the town scholar. “In the holy books,” he intoned, “all answers can be found if you know where to look. But, alas, I have not found the answer. We will have to travel to the big city, where there is a scholar of great renown. Surely he will know.”

 

So, the town scholar, and the rabbi, and the man, and the woman traveled to the city to consult with the scholar of great renown.

 

“In the holy books,” he intoned, “all answers can be found. Come back in a month and I will have the answer for you.”

 

A month later, the town scholar, and the rabbi, and the man, and the woman, at great expense, returned to the city.

 

“In the holy works,” repeated the city scholar, “all anwers can be found. And so it is in this case. I have diligently searched the Talmud and the Gomorrah, and the commentaries of all the great Rabbis. And I have uncovered the answer.”

 

The town scholar, and the rabbi, and the man, and the woman leaned forward, each anxious for the great revelation.

 

“After great and careful study,” said the city scholar of great renown, “it is quite apparent.” Turning towards the women, he said, “you obviously buttered the bread on the wrong side.”
 
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For me, the buttered side landing on the floor is directly proportional to the cost of the floor covering...........
 
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KYH - Laughing my socks off here - thank you so much for posting the story.  I needed a good laugh today.

My kitchen injustice....

Why do I ever get anyone else to do the dishes?  They do it so they are not properly cleaned, then when dry, put them nowhere I can find them? Aargh.  Next day you go to where your hand can normally find it without even looking and it plainly isn't where it should be.

Is this a new conspiracy? Hehe, no, it's probably just normal in a home.

Good on them for washing when I've had a long hard day - it does take a load off my shoulders.
 
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KYH - Laughing my socks off here - thank you so much for posting the story.  I needed a good laugh today.

My kitchen injustice....

Why do I ever get anyone else to do the dishes?  They do it so they are not properly cleaned, then when dry, put them nowhere I can find them? Aargh.  Next day you go to where your hand can normally find it without even looking and it plainly isn't where it should be.

Is this a new conspiracy? Hehe, no, it's probably just normal in a home.

Good on them for washing when I've had a long hard day - it does take a load off my shoulders.
AMEN my friend AMEN

I do the majority of the cooking in my house in the beginning it was more survival mode than anything ( I got sick and tired of eating mac and cheese and romin noodles) now don't get me wrong my wife is an excellent cook she just doesn't like to do it, but she does do the cleaning around the house but one of my biggest pet peeves is when the pots and pans don't get put back where they belong, I know exactly where they are supposed to be and it annoys the hell out of me when they get put in the wrong place.

I guess it's my version of OCD.   /img/vbsmilies/smilies/bounce.gif
 
 
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Hehehe Highlander - the pans go HERE, the forks, knives spoons etc go HERE, the roasting pans go HERE!!!!!  It's enough to drive you mad, on some days.  OCD rocks. I know.

Encourage your wife to cook as she is good, promise her a shoulder or foot rub after you've enjoyed the meal, done the dishes and put them where they usually live.  Or help her cook & watch and learn.  Wish my other half would do that.  Ah well, I'll pretend a flu one of these years, maybe he will learn to cook.  But I expect the food would be the colonel's or the clown's. Ha!
 
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