Easy Off the Flesh Eating Cleaner
The oven at the shore was a mess – between dropping half a dozen hot hors d’ouevres (gooey cheese, dripping sauce) in the oven on Halloween because I was rushing, not thinking and possibly the black vodka had something to do with it AND followed by Thanksgiving (well you know what that does to the oven)- this oven was yukky. I don’t really want to do this chore and would like to say “It’s not my job!” . Turns out I am blessed because Peter says he would be happy to do the dirty work. I really think this posture comes from the fact that he is convinced he would do a better job and so I say Gay Gezinta Hate! I had brought the can of Easy Off down to the shore from our apartment and handed it off to Peter. He decided he would rather clean it the old fashioned way or his way as he puts it; lots of elbow grease, a razor blade, a Brillo pad and paper towels. AND apparently the can of Easy Off had no fizz left in it – I wonder how old it really was? I could have brought it with me from Connecticut, (12+ years ago) as unbelievable as that may sound! OKAY so I never said that I baked a lot, or roasted for that matter but I DO cook!
I tossed the Easy Off can into our recycle bin and forgot about it. Last night we were to bring the trash and the bottles, cans and papers out front for pick up this morning. I grabbed the plastic bag containing the bottles and cans and SPLAT, SPLASH – I am covered in some foaming brown stuff and it has splattered on the walls, the cat litter box, and spilled on the floor. I am screaming, “OMG, OMG ” and some other phrases which I will not print here so I can maintain my G rating. I yell at Peter and say “Help me”, “Get me something, I ‘m burning!” Here comes the classic husband response: “What do you mean you’re burning?” I replied with exactly what you would think I would say which was. “I’m burning, what do you mean, what do I mean? I’m burning!” At this point, I am ripping my jeans off, the right leg dripping with what looks like foaming coca cola or hot chocolate. THEN it dawns on me that the Easy Off can lid was probably not on properly and the liquid dripped out and as we know just how caustic it is, it ate through the plastic bag which I had grabbed and was swinging towards the door and myself. As my leg was burning, I began to wonder if Easy Off was flesh eating!! I put the jeans under the faucet, tried to wash my shirt sleeve off too and Peter tackled the brown spots all over my very special Metro slippers!
The morning after the night before – I am finding brown splatters EVERYWHERE and think that some drops ate away some of the color of linoleum floor. Geez Louise!!!!
Bill Ding and his band of clowns are the security patrol for this blog site. He is a favorite toy from the 50*s. By the way sometimes a blog is just an ego-maniacal stream of conscience.
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