Today is National Kitchen Klutzes of America Day. When I first heard this, I thought well this doesn't apply to me. I have known friends who have fallen and broken bones in the kitchen, but not me. When I slipped and broke my hip, that was in the garage. Granted, it was while my kitchen was being remodeled, so it might almost count. Then I got to thinking about kitchen disasters of my youth. There was the time I was lifting a stack of plates out of the cupboard to set the table and they slipped out of my hands and shattered on the kitchen floor. I think only one survived. Which explains why my current collection of my mother's favorite dishes includes mostly cups, saucers, and pie plates. And then there was the time I bumped against the pressure cooker on the stove and got a nasty burn on my upper arm, and the time I was testing the doneness of a cake by tapping lightly on the top and drove my finger deep into the cake. These days I always test with toothpicks. Now keep in mind, all of these incidents happened while I was a young teenager, and you must admit that's a typically klutzy time of life but I do think it qualifies me to be considered a Kitchen Klutz. If you feel you also might qualify, welcome to the club.
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