(which has nebber happened... I just don't spill!!!).
Well, yesterday evening, I thought I would COOK, I mean really cook. I don't enjoy it, but I'm not against it from time to time.
My plan was an orange cake.
I was motivated.
Well, in the 5 first minutes, I dunno how, but I spilled the box of flour all over the floor in the kitchen. That happened in a millisecond but that was enought to have me grmmmphing for the next 10 minutes.
Martin shouted from the other side of the flat: "I will do the cooking, just let everything as it is!!!!"
tssss. No!!!! I would do it, no matter what!
... I took the vacuum-cleaner and get rid of the flour. I put the vaccuum-cleaner in the next room, thinking I had to go on with the cake first.
There had enough flour left to finish my cake... phewww.
So there I go, playing the kitchen scientist.
Butter...sugar... eggs... flour.
But I'm not comfortable enough, I have to pour the flour very slowly while turning the preparation.
I have an idea: why not going on the sofa, put the dish firmly between my legs so that it does not move? Then I have a free hand to pour the flour.
Cooking is complicated.
Anyway, on my way there, to the living-room... my feet met the forgotten vaccuum-cleaner and woooosh, I spilled my preparation all around!!!!
And the worst is not on the pic (how practical to get a digit cam!)... When I started cleaning, I spread the buttered preparation... a nightmare for my parquet ... and my jeans.
My cake is done, I haven't abandoned. But I'm not about to go back in the kitchen for a few days.
These are *signs*. I gotta listen at dem :P