Last night I made dinner. Dun Dun Dun. I try to do that at least three times a week. You know, wifery and all. Well maybe I should clarify that statement. We buy food to make at least three to four nights a week and then either Rodger or I make it depending on where our specialties fit. I.E. veggies and red meat would be Rodger. Cheese and bread would be me.
Last night Rodger barbecued a couple of pieces of Tri-Tip and put frozen bread in the oven. Dun Dun Dun. I took the bread in its glass pan out of the oven and set it on the counter. In all of my domestic glory, I guess I forgot it was hot because I grabbed the dish again without putting the oven mitt on. Ouch!!!!!! Both my pointer fingers and thumbs got burned. I knew it was a bad sign when they started blistering immediately.
I spent the next thirty minutes crying and ranting about how the only faucet in the house that gets cold water is in the kitchen. Then for the next three or four hours I rotated my hands from the faucet to wet cloths to a big bowl of ice water to wrapping my hands around a cold cup.
I barely ate any of my dinner and what I did eat Rodger had to cut up and feed to me.
Around 10:30pm or so my fingers started throbbing less and I was able to fall asleep. I was so happy when I woke up around 2am and they didn't hurt anymore. They are stiff still and hurt under hot water but no where near as bad as they did last night.
Poor little paws, I am so sorry!