It's not about the house.

Wednesday, August 1, 2007

Okay, The Crockpot's Gonna Live

I washed it out with vinegar (and soap, and water) and dried it with a dishtowel (something I never do) and put it right back where I found it. He'll never know. Don't tell him.

So anyway I'm at work and then by sheer coincidence the lady that I work for starts talking about she wishes she had a crockpot because if she did she could leave something simmering on low all day and--

And suddenly I'm thinking "Low? Did I turn it down to low? Or did I leave it on high?"

See, the instructions that I found on google said to set the pot on medium, but our pot doesn't have a medium, so I figured I'd set it on high until I left and turn it down. But maybe I didn't remember about that last part. In fact, I was pretty sure I didn't.

And the reason this particular crockpot doesn't have a medium --and the reason that it matters so much to Johnny -- is that it's about twenty years old. It was a gift to him from the mother of an ex-girlfriend who is now dead. The mother, that is, not the girlfriend. The girlfriend's still alive. He almost married her, the bitch.

No, I'm just kidding, I never met her and I don't care, but I've got to save this crockpot.

Maybe I should never have used it in the first place?

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