Traditional Slapstick
Dec. 27th, 2014 04:53 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bloodyrosemccoyWe cook our turkey on the grill. Everyone who hears this greets it with skepticism, right up until they try the turkey. Then they start considering using/getting their own grill. Plus, an outdoor grill allows us to enjoy the winter weather, which this year decided, much like my sister, to show up exactly on Christmas Day. (My sister works retail and had to be at the bookstore on Christmas Eve. What's the weather's excuse?)
So on Christmas Day when I came up the stairs, my brother was manning the grill, and my parents had gone to get my sister from the airport.
ME: Boy! What day is it?
MY BROTHER: Why, it's Christmas Day!
ME: Then I haven't missed it!
MY BROTHER: You almost did. It's like 2:30.
ME: Hey, you keep Christmas in your way and let me keep it in mine.
The turkey was pretty much done, just gently smoking now, so my brother deemed it was time to collect the drippings. Armed with a saucepan, oven mitts, and shoes for the snow, I stepped out to help him.
MY BROTHER: Ooh, that's a gorgeous pan full of drippings.
ME: Did you see how well I managed to pour it from this floppy pan into the saucepan?
But unbeknownst to me, a chunk of icy snow had stuck to my shoe.
The sad thing is, I even thought about slipping out of my shoes upon entering the house. But , ironically as it will turn out in a minute, I wanted to get the drippings to safety before getting distracted, and I did not.
So I stepped on the kitchen linoleum and was promptly mugged by physics. My right foot shot out in front of me, I came down hard on my left knee, and almost a pint of turkey juice sloshed spectacularly out to coat the kitchen like a greasy tsunami.
MY BROTHER: (from out on the deck) Well, that didn't sound good.
ME: I ... may have just ruined Christmas, dude.
So when the rest of the family came home, they found my brother working on Christmas dinner, very gingerly stepping around the kitchen as I tried to clean up the grease. Several Swiffer diapers, a million paper towels, quite a few rags, and a change of greasy pants later, we were back in business.
ME: I want to point out that I managed to keep the pan upright, so even though most of it sloshed out, we still have almost a cup left.
MY MOM: That will totally go far enough.
ME: IT IS A CHRISTMAS MIR--wait, isn't there another holiday that talks about oil lasting longer than--
MY SISTER: *cough*culturalappropriation*cough*
ME: IT IS A CHRISTMAS MIRACLE
So yes, we still got our gravy. And Christmas dinner was great, and then we went into the master bedroom (that will soon be MINE HAHAHAHAHAHA) and wrapped all our presents, and then we went downstairs and unwrapped them. And we watched Arthur Christmas, which is hilarious and fun and you should all check it out, and overall it was a pretty dang successful Christmas.
And then I woke up the next day and found out just which muscles I had pulled and how much I'd bruised my knee. But hey, if family Christmas comedies have taught us anything, it's that it's not Christmas without a hilarious bit of food-on-the-floor slapstick. And really, as far as disasters go, I'll take it over the Annual Christmas Plumbing Disaster any day.
So on Christmas Day when I came up the stairs, my brother was manning the grill, and my parents had gone to get my sister from the airport.
ME: Boy! What day is it?
MY BROTHER: Why, it's Christmas Day!
ME: Then I haven't missed it!
MY BROTHER: You almost did. It's like 2:30.
ME: Hey, you keep Christmas in your way and let me keep it in mine.
The turkey was pretty much done, just gently smoking now, so my brother deemed it was time to collect the drippings. Armed with a saucepan, oven mitts, and shoes for the snow, I stepped out to help him.
MY BROTHER: Ooh, that's a gorgeous pan full of drippings.
ME: Did you see how well I managed to pour it from this floppy pan into the saucepan?
But unbeknownst to me, a chunk of icy snow had stuck to my shoe.
The sad thing is, I even thought about slipping out of my shoes upon entering the house. But , ironically as it will turn out in a minute, I wanted to get the drippings to safety before getting distracted, and I did not.
So I stepped on the kitchen linoleum and was promptly mugged by physics. My right foot shot out in front of me, I came down hard on my left knee, and almost a pint of turkey juice sloshed spectacularly out to coat the kitchen like a greasy tsunami.
MY BROTHER: (from out on the deck) Well, that didn't sound good.
ME: I ... may have just ruined Christmas, dude.
So when the rest of the family came home, they found my brother working on Christmas dinner, very gingerly stepping around the kitchen as I tried to clean up the grease. Several Swiffer diapers, a million paper towels, quite a few rags, and a change of greasy pants later, we were back in business.
ME: I want to point out that I managed to keep the pan upright, so even though most of it sloshed out, we still have almost a cup left.
MY MOM: That will totally go far enough.
ME: IT IS A CHRISTMAS MIR--wait, isn't there another holiday that talks about oil lasting longer than--
MY SISTER: *cough*culturalappropriation*cough*
ME: IT IS A CHRISTMAS MIRACLE
So yes, we still got our gravy. And Christmas dinner was great, and then we went into the master bedroom (that will soon be MINE HAHAHAHAHAHA) and wrapped all our presents, and then we went downstairs and unwrapped them. And we watched Arthur Christmas, which is hilarious and fun and you should all check it out, and overall it was a pretty dang successful Christmas.
And then I woke up the next day and found out just which muscles I had pulled and how much I'd bruised my knee. But hey, if family Christmas comedies have taught us anything, it's that it's not Christmas without a hilarious bit of food-on-the-floor slapstick. And really, as far as disasters go, I'll take it over the Annual Christmas Plumbing Disaster any day.
