I awoke this morning and took a deep breath.
Mmm. Mom’s baking a cake. no. mom’s on the phone in the office. Mom’ burning something. run.
I ran down the two flights of stairs. I’m not even sure my feet ever even touched the floor. That, I must add, is an incredible feat considering I’d a) just woken up and b) have the flu. As I passed through the second floor onto the next flight of stairs I screamed to my mom that she was burning something.
huh? how? I don’t have anything in the oven.
I slid into the oven as I tried to stop and grabbed an oven mit as I turned off the buzzing timer. As I opened the oven door I heard my mother scream from upstairs:
Oh No! The Chestnuts!!!
Now, let me tell you something about this family and chestnuts. My mother (and Aunt) are obsessed! They wait all year long for the chestnuts to arrive to the stores in the fall and then they hoard them. Unfortunate for them, I’ve come to love them too. Which means now there is another person to share them with. They are not pleased with this development. ;)
It was then that my mother came running down the stairs. Yes. She ran. She hovered over the sizzling pan of exploded chestnuts and proceeded to examine them. Despite their exit from a 400 degree oven, she even picked a few up and tried to open them. She immediately devised another plan. She took the little nut stabber thingy (I’m still not even sure what that is really used for) and stabbed it into the soft part of the nut. While holding it up with the stabber thingy, she clamped the nut cracker around it and peeled off the shell.
I am happy to report that the chestnuts survived! Although, one did jump out of the pan onto the base of the oven. I thought the song went: chestnut’s roasting on an open fire. Not: Chestnuts exploding in an oven.
Needless to say. I’m awake :)