Genius popped in Sunday afternoon to ruffle my feathers.
Speaking of feathers, last Monday Hick found Yellow-Leg, our big red rooster, second in command of the hens after our first rooster, Survivor, floating in Poolio. He was not alive. Hick and The Pony had just covered Poolio for the winter. We had a couple of downpours throughout the day and night, and the black pool cover had about a foot of water on top. Let the record show that chickens are not good swimmers.
"Hey, Genius, Dad found Yellow-Leg drowned on top of the pool cover this week." Genius is no fan of the animalia that Hick collects.
"Meh. C'est la vie."
"It's not really polite to talk French about our dead chicken."
"C'est la mort. Do we have anything here for lunch?"
"You can have pizza left from Thursday, or Chinese left from Friday, or chili made yesterday."
"I'm having Chinese. Don't tell me that the chili is in the big pan sitting in the refrigerator."
"No. The big pan is on the stove. The chili is in plastic containers stacked in the refrigerator."
"Good. Because I want to use that big pan to mix up a batch of photo developer."
"You might have to wash it. I just rinsed it last night. It looks clean. But there might be particles of chili on the side. Will that mess up your developer?"
"Of course it will. You can't have chili in developer."
"There's another pan that size under the cabinet. That black one with white speckles. It's a little thinner than the copper-bottom one. I don't use it much. It's clean."
"What kind of pan is this? Is it cast iron?"
"What am I, a metallurgist? I don't know what kind of pan it is. It's NOT cast iron. That's like the skillets Dad has hanging on the end of the garage. The heavy stuff."
"Obviously, you are NOT a metallurgist. Hey! I smell something burning!"
"That could be the pan you just put on the burner and turned up the heat to high."
"Hey! This vent is not hooked up to anything! It just shoots the vapors out into the room!"
"I think you have spent too much time in Academia. This is a kitchen. Not a chem lab."
"Well. MY house will have a fume hood to vent vapors to the outside. And it will be filtered!"
"Good for you. First you have to GET a house."
"I need a funnel. Do we have a funnel?"
"No. You can cut a paper plate and roll it into a cone and pour through that like I do."
"Um. This is going to be boiling hot. I need a funnel. I should have gone to Hogwarts! I have my cauldron and my chemicals...all I need is a funnel."
When I came back from the laundry room, that boy had a funnel! How did he do that?
"Oh, I found this funnel. Now I need The Pony to hold this jug while I pour my developer from this boiling pan. PONY! Come help!"
I couldn't bear to watch.
"I'm rinsing this pan with hot water. Your sink should be all right. I can use this sponge."
"No! I use the sponge on the dishes! We don't need chemicals on the sponge."
"Okaaay! You might want to give this sink a good cleaning before you wash dishes in it, too. And the next time you do dishes, you should probably wash this pan."
I've forgotten what it was like when Genius lived under our roof. I've kind of been on vacation for a year without knowing it.
Be careful of the candid camera. You never know what might develop.
ReplyDeleteIt sounds like there is a science experiment--about to go wrong--at every turn.
ReplyDeleteHey, he's using YOUR kitchen items. Shouldn't he be the one cleaning them?
ReplyDeleteBut, why did you not pluck those feathers and gut that chicken and cook it up in the chemical pot?
ReplyDeleteLinda,
ReplyDeleteWhat might develop is a case of Genius poisoning. I smelled that stuff all over the kitchen the next two days. He must have touched everything.
*****
Sioux,
His life is a science experiment. Genius was downstairs fiddling with his photo printer and desktop computer. I heard a loud YELP. Like a dog after a person, let's say HICK, steps on its toes.
"Are you okay?"
"Yeah. I just shocked myself. I have a long blister on my finger from where the charge went in and out. That's the first time I ever scared myself with this electronic stuff."
*****
Stephen,
Theoretically, yes. But as with absolute zero being the lowest temperature possible, THEORETICALLY, even though it has never been reached, even in the icy depths of Val Thevictorian's cold, cold heart...the washing of the dishes by the person who dirtied them has not yet been observed in this house.
*****
Kathy,
That would certainly have been fitting. But you forget that Val is only good with warming food in the oven or heating it up in the microwave. Potboiling is not in her culinary skill set.