Hello Pandhandle. You have forsaken me. No, I am not talking about that place with beautiful beaches over on the northwest of Florida; I am talking about the handle of my pan. We had a beautiful relationship and just like that I was betrayed. Cooking dinner has been so pleasant up to this point. Now I can't look at it the same way. It was partially my fault. I should have been paying attention. I had the pan in the oven, took it out, did some other things, and without thinking came back and picked that scaulding hot pan up by the handle. Just as quickly, I threw the pan back onto the stove and could feel my skin melting.
Through all of this I learned a few things, like: Don't talk on the phone while you are cooking. The most important thing I learned: That I have a daughter who is sincere and loving. Isabella immediately ran to my aid and said, "It's ok mommy. It's ok mommy. It's ok mommy," as I ran threw the house trying to ease the pain. When I stopped, she would rub my leg or back and say again, "It's ok mommy. Oh and I forgot to mention, I had Avaree in the sling the whole time, sleeping on my chest. She didn't wake up threw the whole ordeal.
So today, when I got up the nerve to wash the pan out, all I could think about was my melting skin and throbbing hand. It might take me a few days to wash the pan completely.